


Carry That Weight

by Scarlet_Gryphon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, F/M, M/M, Sentinel Senses, Sentinel/Guide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1485394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Gryphon/pseuds/Scarlet_Gryphon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam doesn't want a Guide. Gabriel has no choice but to be his. The road to love (or even like) never has run smooth.</p><p>Steampunk-fantasy Sentinel/Guide AU fusion. Sabriel with v. minor background Destiel. Written for the Gabriel Big Bang 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, thank you to my betas, Alyssa (luciferblogging.tumblr.com) and Fiona (sarcastic_fi over on LJ). Also, to my lovely artists [Regina](http://sharysaogail.deviantart.com/gallery/46139168) and [Vanessa](http://ziarenete13x.livejournal.com/46121.html), without whom this universe would not be visualized. And finally, to the wonderful people over at the Gabriel Big Bang community for hosting this event.

  
Since before the dawn of archived history, angels had been living alongside humans. They were just another humanoid race, though they tended to have a greater affinity for magics than humans did. Most theories said that it was because they were an inherently magical race anyways; without the magic, angels wouldn't be able to fly, even with their appropriately proportionate wings.

Angels tended to produce more Sentinels than Guides, though no one knew exactly why. What was known that angelic Guides were more highly sought after than human ones, simply because of their rarity. Whether or not they were, in fact, better than human Guides was debatable, as it usually depended solely on the individual talents of the Guide rather than any benefits provided to them thanks to their race.

The angelic House of Novak was well known for producing at least one Guide per generation. Lord Scribe Charles Novak had two sons who were Guides, though the rest were Sentinels; their names were Gabriel and Castiel. As was custom, they were sent to the Imperial Guide Academy when they were young boys, and their family was sent a stipend each month in return for Gabriel and Castiel's service. Gabriel was the elder of the two, having nearly two years of seniority over his brother.

In the last month of the autumn of Gabriel's twenty-third year, a letter arrived at his and Castiel's private suite at the Guide Academy in the imperial capital of Desay, brought to them by a manservant. Gabriel nodded his thanks, taking the letter from him and then dismissing him with a vague gesture as he examined the wax seal on the back of the envelope.

“It's a letter from Dad,” he told Castiel, who was practicing his meditation near the fire. Castiel didn't bother opening his eyes, but merely hummed in response, his wings (which were so dark a navy blue as to be nearly black) twitching gently as he focused. Gabriel opened the envelope with a letter knife, pulling out the letter from inside before unfolding it and then scanning it over. He paused halfway through and then returned to the top of the letter, his richly plum-hued wings beginning to rasp against the smooth fabrics of his clothing in his agitation as he read.

“Gabriel?” Castiel asked, opening his eyes and looking at Gabriel in concern, picking up on his emotions. “What's wrong?”

“What's wrong?” Gabriel repeated, looking up from the letter to stare at Castiel. “ _What's wrong_? Dad's sold both our Guide contracts to Sentinels in some town called New Haven across the Talian Sea, that's what's wrong! He's chartered berths on an airship and everything. Do you _know_ where New Haven is?”

Castiel shook his head in mute response.

“It's on the edge of the Wilds, that's where!” Gabriel continued on. “It's supposed to be some last bastion of civilization before the unknown! Those Sentinels could be explorers or something crazy like that.” He shivered, his wings half-flaring as he spoke; the long, stark white primaries at the edges showed briefly before being hidden again as Gabriel got himself under control. 

Castiel sighed. “Gabriel, I doubt Father would contract us to explorers,” he said, rising to his feet. “He values us far more than that.”

Gabriel snorted. “Obviously not, if we're being sent so far from home. We'll probably be the only angels there.”

“It could be fun,” Castiel said with a shrug. “You never know.”

Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “Fun,” he said flatly. “ _Fun_. You'd rather leave everything behind simply because something might be 'fun'? May I remind you that we don't even know who our Sentinels are, or if we're even compatible with them? This could be nothing more than a wild goose chase, and we'd have to wait until Dad sent us return tickets home or until we had enough money to buy those tickets ourselves before we could do anything else. Do you really want that? And what do we know about living so close to the Wilds? I'll tell you: nothing.”

“You're being uncharacteristically pessimistic,” Castiel said, plucking the letter from Gabriel's hands and reading it over. “But you're right about one thing: Father doesn't say who our Sentinels are, merely that we'll be met at the airfield by someone who will take us to them.” He looked into the envelope. “Ah. And here are the tickets.” 

He took them out of the envelope and examined them. “Hm. It looks like we'll be leaving tomorrow evening. Seven o'clock on the _Fortune's Venture_.”

Gabriel sighed. “Lovely. I guess we should start packing. Gods, what should we even bring?”

“A little bit of everything, I suspect,” Castiel said. “You'll need your mage kit, obviously.”

“I barely need it now that I've got the ink done,” Gabriel replied, “but it wouldn't hurt to bring it.”

“Nor would it hurt to have a varied wardrobe, either. The weather there isn't like it is here; the Wild affects it too much.”

Gabriel nodded. “Looks like we'll be taking our trunks with us.” He shook his head. “I just wish we had more warning than this.”

“If we did, you would've fought against it,” Castiel said dryly. “Father has obviously thought ahead to keep you from doing so.”

Gabriel scoffed. “I would've fought against not being able to choose my own Sentinel. That's what annoys me the most.”

Castiel paused and then nodded. “Yes, I suppose it is annoying,” he said, “but we don't have much choice while Father controls our contracts.”

A sharp gesture from Gabriel cut Castiel off from saying more. “Let's just get packed and hope like hells that everything turns out alright. I'm tired and I don't want to deal with this any more.”

“Very well. I'll see you in the morning, Gabriel. Sleep well.”

“Thanks, Cas. You too.” Gabriel smiled wearily at his brother and then went into his room, shutting the door behind him. He began packing, emptying out the steamer trunk that sat at the end of his bed and then starting to methodically put most of his clothes inside. He made sure to pack a smaller bag that held several changes of clothes and supplies for the journey on the airship. Once he'd finished packing everything, Gabriel got ready for bed, not looking forward to what was to come.


	2. The Storm

  
The airship docks at Riverside Station were located on the roof; a broad staircase led up to the roof from the main floor. Throngs of waiting crowds filled the station, the sound of trains and airships arriving or leaving and people talking adding to the aural cacophony that flowed through the enclosed space. Gabriel and Castiel made their way through the evening crowd, having sent their luggage ahead to be loaded on the _Fortune's Venture_. The _Venture_ was smaller than most of the other airships that were tethered to the short masts on the roof, but then again, the other airships were more suited for mass transit than the _Venture_ was.

“There she is,” Castiel said, gesturing at the _Venture_ and then briefly checking his pocket-watch. “Let's go. We only have five minutes before departure.”

“Well, then, we had best be going,” Gabriel replied resignedly. 

The captain of the _Venture_ met the two Guides at the bottom of the long suspended gangplank that led up to the main airlock of the ship. He was a lithe angel with dusty green wings, and wore a bowler that befitted his status as captain of an airship.

“Welcome,” the captain said. He had a rich accent, and looked like he would be more at home at the Court than flying around on an airship a thousand feet off the ground. “I am Captain Balthazar Donovan. Your luggage has been stowed aboard, and you have a small cabin to yourselves. It has two bunks, so you don't need to worry about sharing,” he continued on. “We lift off in three minutes.”

“Thank you,” Gabriel replied with a slight smile. The captain led the way up the suspended gangplank, with Gabriel and Castiel following close behind him. After showing them to their quarters, Balthazar left them alone to return to the cockpit. Their luggage was there as promised, strapped down to the floor at the near ends of the bunks. The room wasn't particularly large, but given that the airship wasn't very big in the first place, space was at a premium.

“Home sweet home for the next few days,” Gabriel said, setting his travel bag on his bunk. Castiel nodded.

“Hopefully the journey will be smooth.” Castiel sat down on his bunk, wings tucked neatly to either side of him. 

“Well, I'm going to ward the room just in case,” Gabriel told him, already sketching the required runes in midair. As his fingers moved through the familiar angular shapes, they floated to the four walls and stuck there, shimmering lines of magic fire that didn't burn anything they touched. Once they were all in place a thick rope of golden light connected them, forming a solid perimeter that ran completely around the room without any breaks before fading away.

“There. Much better.” Gabriel flopped unceremoniously down on his bed, landing face-first. “How long is this journey again?”

“Three days across the Talian, and then another three before we get to New Haven,” Castiel replied. Gabriel groaned.

“Nearly a full week of travel. Gods save us all.”  


  
As it stood, Castiel and Gabriel were two of five passengers, with the other three set to get off when they made first landfall at Port Regian. The Guides met their fellow passengers the next evening, as it had been too late to meet them when they arrived, given that dinner had already been served and then cleared away. The angels made their way to the mess hall, which, when not being used to have meals, also served as a lounge that the passengers could relax in. There were two men and one woman already sitting at one of the stowable tables, with what looked like bowls of hot soup, fresh bread, and baked fish placed on the table before them.

“Ah, gentlemen. It's good to see you again,” Balthazar said, setting down his fork. “Please, feel free to take a seat and join us. We've only just started our evening meal.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said politely. He followed Gabriel to the table with the other passengers, where there were two seats left open. Gabriel took a seat next to the woman, while Castiel took the seat right across from his brother. After a moment's pause, Gabriel started to dish himself up small portions of fish, bread, and soup. Castiel followed his example and the two began to eat. While Gabriel was in the middle of spreading some butter on his bread, the woman to his left turned her head to look at him, a curious expression on her face.

“So,” she said as she cut up her fish, “who're you two gentlemen?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Fellow travelers,” he replied cautiously. 

“No, you're more than that,” she said. “You're Guides. The clothes give you away.”

Gabriel looked down at his clothes. He wore simple black slacks made of soft linen, practical leather shoes with a good grip on the tread, and a long-sleeved black silk shirt, over which a forest green pinstriped vest was buttoned. The only jewelry he wore was a silver necklace tucked under his shirt that had a small gold uppercase 'G' hanging on it; Castiel had a matching one under his shirt as well. He didn't see anything wrong with what he was wearing, particularly since most of his outfits were like what he was wearing.

“What's wrong with my clothes?” he asked, looking back up at her with confusion.

“Nothing, which is exactly how I know you two are Guides,” the woman replied, a small smirk curving her ruby-red lips. “None of the fabrics or colors you're wearing would be considered offensive to a Sentinel's senses. You wear only a faint scent, and a natural one at that. Diluted cinnamon oil, if I'm not mistaken. I can't tell what scent your companion is wearing, if anything, but it's likely nothing that would cause a sensory fugue for an unaware Sentinel.”

Gabriel stared at her, arching an eyebrow. “Alright, you got us,” he said. “We're Guides. So?”

“Oh, leave him be, Meg,” one of the other men said with a long-suffering sigh. “What does it matter to you if they're Guides or not? You're no Sentinel; none of us are. Whatever the reasons for their travels, you don't need to know them.”

Meg pouted. “I was just making polite conversation,” she replied. “No need to get all huffy, Brody.”

“I'm merely trying to protect our fellow travelers from your prying,” Brody retorted. “Now eat before your food gets cold.”

“Yes, dear,” Meg said dryly before turning back to her food. Gabriel gave Brody a brief look of thanks before resuming eating as well. The rest of the dinner passed in companionable silence, with the Guides bidding their fellow travelers a good night before leaving the dining room.

The journey to Port Regian was smooth enough, though the occasional bout of turbulence made Gabriel feel queasy. He liked flying, but he usually preferred to do it himself rather than trust the techno-magical æther-ælectric engines powering the _Venture_. Meg and the others got off at Port Regian while the _Venture_ refueled and restocked for the journey to New Haven. Gabriel and Castiel took the opportunity to stretch their legs and wings, glad to have the ability to do so after spending several days cooped up within the airship.

They left once the _Venture_ was ready, heading west towards New Haven and the Wilds. They were a day and a half's flight out from New Haven when the storm hit, buffeting the ship this way and that across the skyscape. Gabriel holed up with Castiel in their cabin, shoring up the wards just in case. Things got truly dire when a klaxon began to blare, echoing through the ship's halls.

“Oh hells,” Gabriel groaned. “This isn't going to end well.”

“What can we do?” Castiel asked nervously, jumping at the sound of a sharp crack of thunder outside.

“Stay put and pray?” Gabriel suggested with a shrug. “I'm strengthening the wards as much as I can, but I can't control the weath--”

The room went pitch black as stressed metal shrieked its death cry somewhere nearby before shearing away. The entire airship dropped heavily, jolting and bucking like a wild horse. Gabriel clung tightly to his bed, chanting feverishly. The amber glow of his magic filled the room, wrapping around himself and Castiel. The airship groaned and roared as it plummeted towards the ground, whirling and spinning like a top.

The winds and rain pulled and pounded at the battered airship, driving it down, down, down, until it slammed into the trees below, leaving a path of fire and destruction in its wake. A large opaque golden sphere of light tumbled free of the wreckage just as the flames ate through the gasbag. With a deep noise like a giant's bellow, the gasbag exploded, sending the ball of magic skittering away as the nearby trees burst into flames. The ball ricocheted from tree to tree, eventually coming to rest in a shallow gully. The magic faded slowly, revealing the unconscious forms of Gabriel and Castiel laying prone on the ground. The rain poured down on them through the overarching canopy of the nearby trees, soaking them thoroughly. Gabriel was the first to wake, a weary groan torn from him as he returned to the land of the waking. His entire body ached; everywhere felt bruised and as battered as well tenderized meat.

“Cas?” he croaked, immediately looking around for his brother. Castiel was several feet away, one wing wedged awkwardly under his body. Gabriel scrambled over the muddy ground towards him, hissing sharply at the spike of pain that went through his leg when he moved. He ignored the warm trickle of blood that ran down the side of his face, too preoccupied with tending to Castiel's wounds to bother with his own.

Gabriel went down to his knees next to Castiel, reaching out to him. A quick scan with his magic (which came far too sluggishly for Gabriel's liking) showed that Castiel was relatively unharmed, though just about as banged up as Gabriel was. 

“Cas?” Gabriel tapped shaky fingers against Castiel's cheek, urging him awake. “Come on, we need to move. It isn't safe to stay here.”

Castiel awoke after a few minutes, staring blearily up at Gabriel. “G'br'l?” he slurred, blinking away the rain. “Wha' happened?”

“The ship crashed,” Gabriel said, sending a wave of healing magic through Castiel to help him recover more quickly. “I'm not sure what happened exactly, nor how long we've been out.”

Castiel made a soft noise of vague comprehension as he sat up, wincing as the blood rushed back into his wing. “Gods. Now what?”

Gabriel sighed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. The idle thought that he really needed to get it cut flittered across his mind before fading once more. “Well, now we find somewhere to take shelter from the storm,” he said. “And then, in the morning, we start heading west. We're bound to stumble onto a road eventually, right? We can fly a good portion of the way. Getting airborne will be helpful.”

“That's assuming the storm is done by sunrise. What if it isn't?”

“Then we wait until it finishes,” Gabriel said. “For now, let's find shelter. We can worry about everything else in the morning.”

Castiel nodded and then got to his feet, Gabriel doing the same a few moments later. He grit his teeth against the pain in his leg, using his wings to help counterbalance against the slippery ground. They set off in the opposite direction of the downed airship, not wanting to stay near it in case the fire spread or something else blew up again.

“Do you think anyone else survived?” Castiel asked as they trudged along.

“I don't know,” Gabriel replied grimly. “I can't feel anyone's emotions beyond our own, so let's hope that they're either unconscious or with the gods.”

“Shouldn't we go back and check?”

Gabriel sighed. “Maybe once the rain is over,” he said finally. “I doubt we'll be able to find much of anything with the weather like this. Let's focus on surviving the night first.”

Castiel pulled his wings closer around his body, trying to use them as a makeshift cloak. They eventually stumbled upon a rough cave near the top of a hill that had been dug out by years of wind and rain. They huddled together inside the mostly dry hollow, curling close to one another for warmth as the rain continued to rush past outside. Castiel fell asleep leaning against his brother, leaving Gabriel to keep watch. Over time, Gabriel's eyes grew heavy and he slowly fell asleep, exhausted and soaked to the bone.


	3. The Journey

  


The storm stopped while the two Guides were asleep, petering out just after sunrise. They returned to the crash site once it was light enough to see if anyone besides themselves had survived. Castiel almost tripped over Balthazar's prone form under a still-smoldering tree, only just catching himself and staying upright. Gabriel quickly checked the captain over, sighing softly when he found several broken bones, burns, and a good amount of bleeding, though thankfully none of it internal. He used some of the last dregs of his magic to heal the worst of the wounds, conjuring splints, dressings, and a sling out of thin air before resetting the bones. He was grateful that Balthazar was already unconscious; having him awake and aware would've made things much harder.

As Gabriel healed Balthazar, Castiel went in search of the other crew members. He returned after a half hour of searching, shaking his head. “No one else left alive,” he reported sadly. “I found a few bodies and buried them as best I could. Hopefully someone will be able to come out and retrieve them to give them a proper burial and last rites.”

Gabriel nodded, shakily getting to his feet. His leg wasn't doing much better than the previous night, even with a hasty bandage he'd put on under his clothing while Castiel was away, and with his magic all but drained, he doubted he'd be moving very fast. “Let's get moving,” he said with a sigh. “Help me get him up. We'll have to carry him.”

“What, no stretcher?” Castiel asked.

“Do you honestly think we could make one?” Gabriel shook his head. “No, we'll have to carry him. Both his legs aren't hurt, thankfully, so hopefully when he wakes up he'll be able to walk some.”

“Hopefully,” Castiel agreed. He crouched down and hoisted Balthazar up, Gabriel getting on the other side. They started walking west, going slow but steady. The sun was just past its highest point when they found a well-worn dirt road stretching from east to west, disappearing into the horizon on both sides. They continued on their way, occasionally stopping to drink water from a nearby stream or pool on the side of the road, Gabriel purifying it with a simple spell that didn't drain what remained of his magic too badly. Balthazar woke around the third time they stopped, coming to as Gabriel and Castiel discussed what they should do for shelter that night, assuming they found any.

Gabriel looked up from the brook he'd been skipping rocks in at the sound of Balthazar's pained groans, getting up and going over to him. “Welcome back,” he said, crouching shakily down next to Balthazar. “How do you feel, Captain?”

“Like shit,” was Balthazar's succinct reply. “What happened?”

“The _Venture_ crashed,” Castiel supplied, taking a seat on Balthazar's other side. “We were the only survivors.” He paused, looking down at the ground. “I buried those I could find. I'm sorry.”

Balthazar weakly shook his head, trying to push himself up into a sitting position. Gabriel pushed him gently back to the ground. “I'd stay there if I were you,” he said. “You're in no position to be moving around too much right now. You've got a broken arm and leg, and a few other nasty wounds. I patched you up as best I could, but we'll all be moving slowly until we get to New Haven.”

Balthazar's brow furrowed. “New Haven? How far away are we?”

“No clue. We found a road that heads west, though,” Castiel said. “I'm not sure exactly where the airship landed in relation to New Haven, but we've been traveling for at least half a day now. We should hopefully get there within the next few days if we don't travel by night.”

“Yeah, no, I vote for sleeping during the night,” Gabriel said, sitting back on his heels. “I like being able to see where I'm going, thanks.”

“Agreed,” Balthazar said. “Thanks for healing me, by the way.”

“No problem.” Gabriel sat fully down on the ground, carefully stretching out his leg with a soft grunt. “I would've done more, but I'm tapped out pretty much right now. This area is almost magic-dead. I can't restore my reserves.”

Balthazar waved off the apology. “It's fine. I'm just thankful to be alive. Listen, when we get to New Haven, I'll set you two up with lodging and some money for food.”

“We're supposed to be meeting someone when we get there,” Castiel said. “I don't know if we'll be able to accept your hospitality in that case.”

“Cas, I'm pretty sure they'd prefer us to be clean, well-rested, and fed,” Gabriel told him. “Besides, it'll give us time to send Dad an ætherogram letting him know we've arrived.”

Castiel hummed at that, shrugging slightly. “Perhaps,” he conceded. “Are you thirsty, Balthazar?”

“Parched.”

Castiel nodded and then went over to the brook, carefully scooping up some water and then bringing it back to Balthazar. Gabriel helped prop him up as he drank, making sure not to jostle his broken limbs too much. Balthazar sagged back against him once he was done, panting a little.

“Ready to move on,” Gabriel asked, “or do you need some time to rest?”

“No, no, we need to move on,” Balthazar insisted. “We've lost enough time as it is. If we can make it there within the next few days, then all will be well and we can get a recovery team out to deal with the wreckage and find the bodies of my crew.”

“I found a few and buried them the best I could,” Castiel told him. “I made sure to mark the graves, but I'm no priest, so I wasn't able to give them the proper blessings.”

“Thank you anyways,” Balthazar said. “It's more than I could hope for given the situation. Help me up?”

They got Balthazar to his feet, Gabriel taking his left side and Castiel his right. That was the way they walked for the remainder of the day, taking periodic rest breaks as they went. They hunkered down in a relatively dry ditch on the side of the road, curling together for warmth. By the time they reached New Haven the next evening, the three angels were dusty and in great need of baths and proper beds. 

Gabriel's magic had started to come back the further west they got, which he was thankful for. It wasn't up to his usual strength, but enough that he'd been able to conjure up a floating stretcher and having Balthazar lay down on it, which made travel far easier for them. Balthazar insisted they go to the airfield first, wanting to report the loss of the _Venture_. Gabriel and Castiel overruled him, instead taking him to the doctor's office after finding out where it was from a passerby.

They made sure Balthazar was settled before heading out and splitting ways: Castiel to the airfield to talk to the officials there, and Gabriel to the post office to send a message to their father. Once he finished with that, he debated between getting a room at the nearby inn or going to the closer of the two taverns in town to get something to eat and drink. Food and drink won out over sleep, so he headed to the eye-rollingly named 'Blue Moon Saloon'.

Gabriel went inside and took a seat at the end of the bar, waiting until the bartender noticed him before placing his order. He paid for his food and a mug of beer, not minding when the bartender said it would be a while before his food was out. Gabriel sipped at his beer, subtly cooling it down with a small rune sketched on the side of the metal.

He sat there in contentment, drinking his beer and getting slowly and pleasantly buzzed. His happiness at finally being able to sit down and relax didn't last long, however, thanks to the intervention of a Sentinel. It spoke to Gabriel's weariness that he didn't even realize the Sentinel was there until the other man had sat down and spoken.

“Well, hello,” the Sentinel said with a charming smile. “It's not every day we get unbound Guides in here. What's your name? Mine's Caleb. You have a name, or should I just call you 'mine' and leave it at that?”

Gabriel glared at Caleb over the rim of his beer mug. “Go away,” he said shortly. “I'm in no mood to deal with a lackwit like you.”

“Oh, come on,” the red-haired man said, smirking at Gabriel as he leaned into his personal space. “You're a Guide. I'm a Sentinel. It's only natural that we get to know one another better, don't you think?”

Gabriel looked Caleb up and down with disinterest before turning back to his beer. “Not interested,” he told him. “Besides, I'm relatively sure you don't hold my contract. Now fuck off or I'll make you. I'm a decorated mage as well as a Guide; I can and will defend myself.”

Caleb snorted. “Please. They don't let Guides become mages.” He reached out and took hold of Gabriel's wrist. “Now, let's go somewhere a little more private and--”

“I said _no_!” Gabriel snarled. He threw his beer sharply in Caleb's face, making him curse and splutter. He then summoned a series of brightly colored lights that flashed and popped all around the Sentinel's head. The sudden over-stimulation of his hearing and eyesight drew Caleb deep and fast into a sensory fugue, his grip loosening enough to let Gabriel pull away and get off his stool, which clattered noisily to the ground.

The sound of a gun cocking had Gabriel turning, only to find the bartender pointing a revolver at him. “Stand down,” the bartender said sharply, eying Gabriel's hands warily. “Keep your hands where I can see them, and no funny business. Else I'll shoot you where you stand, Guide or not.”

As he spoke, a young man slipped out of the front door, his quick-moving footsteps soon fading into the distance. Gabriel sighed, holding his hands up in front of him. “I won't do anything more, trust me,” he said wearily. “I was only defending myself.”

The bartender snorted. “Right. And putting an innocent man into a fugue is defending yourself?”

“He wasn't listening,” Gabriel said through gritted teeth, “and I did warn him. Several times, in fact. He was dumb enough to not listen the first time.”

“We'll see about that when he comes out of the fugue.”

Gabriel sighed once more, wincing at the pain jolting through his leg thanks to the sudden movements he'd made. “Can I at least sit down? My leg's bothering me and I don't know how long I'll be able to stand.”

“Stay still!”

“Alright, alright.” Gabriel could feel himself starting to get more and more unstable as time went on, the pain quickly increasing with every minute he stayed upright. He was feeling decidedly lightheaded by the time the front door opened again, and was relatively sure that the bar hadn't been that dim just a few seconds ago.

“What the hell's going on in here?” boomed a man's curt voice.

“This so-called Guide put Caleb into a fugue, Sheriff,” the bartender replied, not looking back at the newcomers. The young man from earlier was with the Sheriff, his attention focused on Gabriel as well, though his expression was far more concerned than the bartender's.

“Any reason for that?” the Sheriff asked, arching an eyebrow at Gabriel, who frowned. Something about the man seemed familiar. It hit him just as he felt his leg crumple beneath him: the man was a Guide just like him. 

The last thing Gabriel heard was the Sheriff's cry of “Kevin!” and the corresponding “On it!” from the younger man. Gabriel passed out just as Kevin awkwardly caught him, the entire world going black as he was dragged viciously into unconsciousness.


	4. The Arrival

  


Gabriel woke slowly. The first things he registered were emotions, mainly those of weariness and faint hunger. He recognized them as belonging to Castiel, and as the rest of his faculties returned to him, Gabriel opened his eyes, slowly focusing on his brother. “Hi,” he rasped. “What happened? Where are we?”

“In a cell in the Sheriff's office,” Castiel replied, his hand pausing in its stroking of Gabriel's hair. Gabriel's head was resting on Castiel's lap, with the rest of him supported by a bench set against a wall.

“What are we doing in a jail cell?” Gabriel asked, even more confused than he had been when he'd first woken up. 

“Staying safe.”

Gabriel turned his head at the sound of a woman's voice, focusing on her through the iron bars of the cell. “Safe? From what?”

“All the unbonded Sentinels out there,” the woman replied as she came closer. “Hi. I'm Jody, by the way, one of the Sheriffs around here. You met my husband and our schoolmaster earlier.”

“Sheriff? You're a Sentinel?”

Jody nodded, taking a seat on a stool next to the cell. “Yep. And you two have caused a lot of trouble in the short time you've been in town. Sending a Sentinel into a zone out, punching another out in the middle of the street...”

Gabriel slowly sat up, confused. “Punching one out?” he asked. 

“Ah. That would be my fault,” Castiel said, sheepishly holding up his left hand, which had been bandaged up. “One decided to unwisely try to take me to her private den. I didn't exactly react well.”

Gabriel snorted softly. “Yeah, me either,” he said. He looked at Jody. “Look, we didn't come here to get assaulted. We came here to find the Sentinels who hold our contracts. We were supposed to be met at the airfield by someone who would take us to them.”

Jody's gaze sharpened. “You two wouldn't happen to be the Novak brothers, would you?” she asked shrewdly.

“Yes, we are,” Castiel said. “Do you know who we were supposed to meet?”

“Yeah, I do. You were supposed to meet up with me and Bobby. We were going to take you to the Winchesters after you rested up,” Jody explained. “We sure as hell weren't expecting you two to come looking like something the cat dragged in.”

“Well, we didn't exactly have much of a choice in what happened,” Gabriel said, his mouth twisting in distaste. “We didn't call up that storm or have the airship crash on purpose.”

“I'm not saying you did,” Jody said. “Anyways, we got you all patched up. Doc Milligan's a good healer. He did say to be careful with your leg, though. Don't go doing any heavy lifting any time soon.”

“Got it.” Gabriel paused before continuing on with, “These Winchesters. What are they like?”

“Sam and Dean? They're good boys. Both a little stubborn, but good men nonetheless. Good Sentinels, too, though nothing like the idiots you two managed to tangle with. Quite frankly, I'm surprised they both sent out for Guides, but if they did, they must've had a good reason.”

“And what do they do?” Castiel asked apprehensively.

“Well, Dean's a hunter, but Sam's one of our deputies,” Jody said, leaning back in her chair. “Their daddy raised them to be hunters, but he died a few years back out in the Wilds.”

“My condolences,” Castiel said absently. “So, it's just them? Do they come into town often?”

“Dean comes in often enough,” Jody replied. “He's usually down at least twice a week to get supplies, check the mail, and have a meal with Sam, who lives near the edge of town.”

“When do you think we can meet them?” Gabriel asked.

“Well, Sam's not too far away, and Dean's due in tomorrow. We'll set you up at the inn,” Jody said.

“Balthazar-- the Captain –he's offered to put us up for the night there,” Gabriel told her.

“That works out well for you,” Jody approved. “Once Bobby gets back, we'll escort you to the inn.”

“How many unbonded Sentinels are around here?”

Jody shrugged. “Somewhere around twenty or so,” she said in response to Castiel's question. “The Wilds seem to draw more Sentinels than Guides for some reason.”

“Hmm. Well, I'm more than ready to get clean and into fresh clothing,” Castiel continued on, “though our luggage was lost in the crash.”

“I can freshen up our clothes,” Gabriel said with an idle wave of his hand. “Don't worry about it, Cas.” He rose to his feet, unable to keep from wobbling slightly even with his wound being healed. Castiel stood as well, slinging his arm around Gabriel's waist. Gabriel gave his brother a weary smile of thanks and leaned on him as they shuffled their way towards the cell door. Jody unlocked it, but wouldn't let them leave the station until Bobby returned some time later.

Gabriel was just coming out of the bathroom when Bobby came back. He carefully limped out of the bathroom, going slowly so he didn't tip over. Castiel watched him warily, ready to spring into action if needed.

“Good to see you up and about,” Bobby told Gabriel. “You boys ready to get cleaned up?”

“Definitely,” Gabriel said. “I'd also like to get something to eat; I never did get the food that I ordered at the bar.”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “It's long past the time you could've eaten it,” he said. “We'll call over to the Roadhouse and get you something brought to your room at the inn. It'll be on me, so choose whatever you like. It's the least I could do to make up for the idjits you've come across here. Trust me, not everyone's like that.”

“Thank you,” Castiel replied. “We'll definitely take you up on your offer.”

Gabriel nodded. “Agreed. Oh, Sheriff, by the way, who was that man who caught me at the bar? I want to thank him for what he did.”

“Kevin? He's our schoolmaster,” Bobby said. “He's a little young, but he's smart and knows his stuff. He teaches music lessons on the side during the summer when school ain't going.”

“I'll have to thank him the next time I see him,” Gabriel mused. “Thanks for the information.”

“No problem. Let's head on out before the rabble start creating problems,” Jody said, getting up from her chair and smoothing out the fabric of her pants. Bobby nodded and led the way out, waving shortly at a lanky man sitting at a desk near the front door.

“That's Garth, one of our other deputies,” Jody explained as they walked. “He's a good man, if not a little scatterbrained. He's good with kids, though, so that's useful.”

“You have a lot of kids around here?” Gabriel asked.

“A fair few. Not as many as some other settlements, but with the Wilds being so close, this isn't exactly a safe place to raise children,” Jody said.

“It makes sense.” Castiel ruffled his wings absently. “With all the dangers around, children could get into far too much trouble.”

“Cas, that happens even without the Wilds being nearby,” Gabriel drawled as they neared the inn. Jody laughed, holding the door open for the two Guides. 

“I think you two will fit right in with the Winchesters,” she said. “They've got similar senses of humor and wit about them.”

“Good. I'd hate to be bound to someone boring,” Gabriel said. “Let's get our rooms and then some food. I need a proper meal.”

“As do I,” Castiel agreed with a quick nod.

“Keep your pants on, the two of you,” Bobby said. “We'll get to it. Rooms first, and then food.”

“Alright, alright, don't nag.” Gabriel went up to the front desk and made the arrangements. Balthazar had already sent a messenger ahead with the money to pay for two of the best rooms available, which surprised the two Guides. Bobby acted as a character reference, assuring the innkeeper that Gabriel and Castiel were who they claimed to be. There was a small menu from the Roadhouse that listed their usual specials at the front desk, so Gabriel and Castiel were able to figure out what they wanted to eat with little trouble.

“I'll have it brought up to your rooms once it arrives,” the innkeeper promised. 

“Don't bother,” Bobby said. “I'll bring it up myself. It'll save time and that way you know it hasn't been messed with.”

Castiel's eyebrows rose. “I wasn't aware that was a concern,” he said.

Bobby shrugged. “Can't hurt to be safe, 'specially not with the night you've had so far. Go and get freshened up; it'll take twenty minutes or so until the food gets here.” 

They didn't need any more urging; once the innkeeper gave them their keys, the two brothers went upstairs and found their rooms. They adjoined one another, with a door that connected them in the middle. Gabriel immediately left that open, wanting to have a clear way to get to Castiel if he needed to have one. As promised, Gabriel freshened up their clothes, making them clean and tidy with his magic. The faint scent of sun-warmed cotton drifted up from the clothes once he was done, a welcome smell after all the hardships they'd been through.

Gabriel debated taking a bath now rather than later, but decided against it. He didn't want to be stuck in the tub when the food arrived, so he merely took off his boots and socks and let his feet air out as he sat in a very comfortable overstuffed armchair. Castiel lounged in a matching armchair nearby, his wings draped over the armrests. He leaned back into the chair with a content sigh.

“This feels wonderful,” he said. “I've missed being able to sit in actual chairs.”

“Just think, we'll have warm food soon and then baths and then actual beds,” Gabriel added. “Not bunks. Not hard dirt. Beds. With pillows and mattresses and blankets. Glorious blankets.”

Castiel laughed. “That'll be fantastic. I've noticed a chill in the air recently; winter is coming soon, after all.”

Gabriel nodded, letting his wings drape over the armrests of his chair as well. “So, who do you think you'll bond with?” he asked. Castiel shrugged.

“I don't know,” he said. “We'll see when we meet them, I suppose.”

Gabriel hummed in agreement at that, propping his feet up on a nearby footstool and closing his eyes. He figured he could at least get in a short rest before Bobby came with the food. The predicted time of twenty minutes turned out to be more like an hour, and Gabriel had dozed off by the time Bobby knocked on the door. He jolted awake to find Castiel letting Bobby in, his wings flaring slightly before he got himself under control.

“Sorry it took me so long,” Bobby apologized as he set down two small rucksacks on the ground. “but Ellen wouldn't let me go without givin' you two some clothes since you lost yours and all. You might have to tailor them some, but they should be alright.”

“Thank you,” Gabriel said.

“No problem. It's the least we could do since you'll be helping Sam and Dean. Take care, you two. I'll see you tomorrow morning.”

With that, Bobby left, waving a short goodbye before closing the door behind himself. Castiel was holding two covered plates that Bobby had given him; he quickly crossed the room, handing one to Gabriel while keeping the other for himself. Gabriel uncovered his plate and looked down at it.

“I think this one's yours, Cas,” he said, showing Castiel the plate of vegetables and beef; he himself had ordered chicken and potatoes.

“So it is.”

They switched plates and then began eating, both enjoying the warm and flavorful food. Once he was done, Castiel retired to his own room for the night, leaving Gabriel alone. Gabriel savored his food before getting up, stripping down, and going into the bathroom. He filled up the large tub with hot water and then sank into it with a content sigh. Oh, yes, this was the life indeed. 

He soaked in the water for a while, idly scrubbing away the dirt that had accumulated on both his skin and his wings. Gabriel emerged from the bathroom an hour after he'd gone in, freshly scrubbed and clean all over. He didn't bother to get dressed in any sort of nightclothes; instead, he moved the rucksack off his bed and climbed in under the covers, sleepily turning off the ælectric light on the nightstand before succumbing to the siren's call of slumber.


	5. The Meeting

  


Gabriel woke the next morning feeling wonderfully relaxed and refreshed, a welcome change from how he'd been recently waking up. He went through his morning routine, using the facilities and taking a quick bath before shaving and generally tidying his hair and feathers. With that done, he sorted through the clothes in his bag, applying a tailoring spell to the shirts and vests that would allow his wings to phase through them as if the cloth wasn't there. It was a handy trick, and saved a lot of money in tailoring bills.

“Gabriel! Could you-- ugh --could you come help me with these?” Castiel called through the open doorway. Gabriel got dressed in his new clothes, smiling wryly.

“Just a minute,” he called back as he pulled on his pants. He padded into Castiel's room once he was fully clothed, snickering softly in amusement. “Still having trouble with the phasing spell?”

Castiel sighed exasperatedly. “Yes,” he admitted grudgingly. “It hates me.”

“Cas, it's just a spell; it can't hate you,” Gabriel said, amused. “Here, let me.” He waved his hand over the pile of shirts and vests, murmuring the spell. The clothing shimmered a faint silver briefly before returning to its normal state. “There you go.”

“Thank you.” Castiel immediately pulled a shirt on over his head, the fabric sliding over his wings as if they weren't even there. “Ellen did a good job with our sizes.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I did a secondary sizing spell last night to make sure everything fit us. But we'll have to add her to the list of people we need to thank.” He adjusted the buttons on his cuffs, having chosen a cream-colored dress shirt to wear that day; a pale gray vest complimented it very well. 

“So. Ready to go?”

“Yes and no,” Castiel admitted. “I'm very nervous.”

Gabriel clapped a good-natured hand on Castiel's shoulder. “So am I. Let's not let that get in the way, though.”

Castiel smiled and then nodded. “Good plan. So, breakfast?”

“Hells yes.”

They packed up their clothes and then, once they were sure they had everything, they went downstairs, bags in hand. The innkeeper had a note from Jody, telling them to go to the Roadhouse as soon as they could. Once they got directions, Castiel and Gabriel headed out, staying close to one another just in case.

The Roadhouse looked far more respectable than the Blue Moon Saloon, though it was closer to the west side of town, and therefore didn't get as much foot traffic. Gabriel held the door for Castiel, and nearly ran into his brother's back before he got more than six feet past the door.

“Gods, Cas, don't stop suddenly like that. What's turned you to stone?” Gabriel complained, stepping around Castiel to see what had grabbed his attention. Castiel was staring at a man with vibrant green eyes and short brown hair who looked to be somewhere around Gabriel's age; he stood next to Bobby, who was watching everything unfold, his arms crossed over his chest. The object of Castiel's attentions was dressed in simple clothing that looked worn but well-taken care of regardless. The man-- or rather, the Sentinel –was staring right back at Castiel to the exclusion of everything else, focusing on him like a hawk sighting its prey.

“Uh, Cas? Are you alright?” Gabriel asked warily.

“Perfectly fine,” Castiel replied, his voice distant. “Gabriel, I think that's my Sentinel.”

“Really? Then go introduce yourself, you idiot,” Gabriel said, rolling his eyes. “Go on.”

Castiel didn't need any more urging than that. He made his way over to the Sentinel, never taking his eyes off of him but somehow managing to avoid all the patrons, tables, and chairs in his way. Gabriel trailed along after him, weaving through the maze of furniture. Well, at least Castiel would be alright. The same couldn't be said for him, as Gabriel couldn't see his Sentinel waiting for him anywhere. His wings drooped slightly, so he pulled them in close to his body, his nervousness and disappointment getting the better of him.

Castiel stopped in front of his Sentinel, hesitating momentarily before holding out a hand. “Hello,” he said, unable to keep his wings from fluttering a little in his excitement. “I'm Castiel.”

“Dean,” the other man replied, smiling at Castiel's excitement as he shook his hand firmly. The excitement tasted like fizzy blueberry cordial to Gabriel, much like that emotion always did when he knew it was coming from his brother. 

“It's great to finally meet you, Castiel,” Dean continued on, releasing Castiel's hand with an air of reluctance. “Sorry to hear about what happened with the airship.”

“So am I,” Castiel said, “but hopefully Captain Donovan can find a replacement for it soon.”

While Dean and Castiel continued to talk, sitting down at an open table in order to do so, Gabriel took a seat at the bar counter, not wanting to be in the way. Bobby joined him at the bar, hoisting himself up onto the stool next to him. “Sorry about this,” he said, waving a hand in a vague gesture. “Sam can be... well, more stubborn than a mule. Jody's been trying to drag him over here for a while now. He's refusing to leave the station.”

Gabriel sighed. “Well, at least Cas and Dean have gotten along well. That's something to be thankful for, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose, though if Sam doesn't stop being such an ass, I'll smack him upside the head,” Bobby grumbled. He turned so he could see the door, and out of impatience, so did Gabriel, his wings shifting nervously behind him. Ten minutes later, the front door opened again, admitting Jody and a tall man Gabriel could only assume was Sam. At first glance, Gabriel figured Sam was somewhere around Castiel's age, if not a little older.

The moment he saw Sam, all of Gabriel's instincts as a Guide were telling him that they were highly compatible, much like Castiel and Dean were. He sat up straighter, his wings fanning the air slightly in an unconscious attempt to make himself look more desirable and to waft his scent towards Sam. In direct contrast to Dean's reaction to Castiel, however, Sam barely glanced at Gabriel as he and Jody drew near to the bar.

“Well, _finally_ ,” Bobby said, getting off his stool. “What took you so long?”

“I was busy,” Sam replied shortly, gaze skittering away from Gabriel like marbles on glass before coming to rest on Dean and Castiel. “They look like they're getting along well.”

“Yeah,” Bobby agreed. “Aren't you going to introduce yourself to your Guide?”

Sam shrugged, absently thrusting his hand towards Gabriel, focusing on him long enough to be polite. ”Sam Winchester.”

“Gabriel Novak,” Gabriel replied, shaking Sam's hand. It was hard for him to get a concrete read on Sam's emotions, which confused him slightly, as he usually could get at least a basic surface read on most people's emotions. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Sam nodded, dropping Gabriel's hand as quickly as he could without seeming rude. “I'm sure.” 

Jody rolled her eyes behind Sam, shaking her head. “Anyways,” she said in an attempt to break the awkwardness, “why don't we get some food? Have you had breakfast yet, Gabriel?”

Gabriel shook his head. “Not yet,” he replied. “We figured we could get some food here.”

“Good idea,” Jody said approvingly. “Ellen does a good breakfast. Let's go join Dean and Castiel.” She looked pointedly at Sam. “You too, Sam.”

Sam shrugged again, joining Dean and Castiel at their table. Gabriel glanced over at Bobby, who shook his head subtly before going over to the table as well, Jody doing the same. Gabriel pulled a chair up to the table, sitting awkwardly between Castiel and Bobby at one of the corners. 

It got a little better once they'd ordered and then got their food, but not by much. Sam remained resolutely terse, determinedly not looking at or addressing Gabriel intentionally, even when Gabriel or one of the others tried to bring him into the conversation. After a while, Gabriel just gave up and instead focused on his food, figuring that maybe Sam just wasn't a people person, unlike Dean, who was talking animatedly. His eyes were almost constantly on Castiel, who was all but preening under the attention.

Gabriel was glad when the meal finished, setting down his fork and knife once he was comfortably full. He waited for the others to finish as well, sneaking the occasional surreptitious glance at Sam. He couldn't help but be fascinated by him; after all, he'd never met a Sentinel who he'd instinctively known that they would be near, if not entirely, perfect matches with one another. That made the fact that Sam was doing his best to ignore him all the more puzzling to Gabriel. Why hadn't Sam reacted to him like Dean had to Castiel? It was almost unfair.

Not that Gabriel spited Castiel for it; he was more than happy that his brother had matched so well. It was just that he wished Sam would show more excitement about the whole thing. To have that strong of a match at random was rare, doubly so that both matches were between two sets of siblings.

_It must run in our families,_ Gabriel mused. _Interesting._

“Well, I'm all done,” Dean announced, breaking into Gabriel's train of thought. “Cas?”

“As am I,” Castiel said, smiling at Dean's easy use of his nickname. “It was delicious. Thank you for the recommendation.”

“No problem. Wait 'til you try the pie here. It's to die for,” Dean told him as he pulled out his coin-purse. Jody stopped him mid-reach with a hand on his arm.

“We've got this," she said. "Don't worry about it.”

“I'll get you back next time,” Dean said as he put his coin-purse back into the inner pocket of his coat. “Thanks, you two.”

“No problem. You four go settle in. I'm sure you want to get to know one another better,” Bobby said, getting his coin-purse out and putting more than enough money on the table to cover the bill and the tip. 

Dean nodded, getting to his feet and then extending a hand to Castiel, who took it gratefully as he stood up. Gabriel got up as well, looking to Sam for further cues after picking up his bag. Sam pushed back his chair, reluctantly standing and then gesturing for Gabriel to follow him out of the Roadhouse, leaving Bobby and Jody behind; Dean and Castiel walked out behind them, heading off in the opposite direction of where Sam was going. 

“The house is this way,” he said, heading over to a gray speckled mare that was tethered to a hitching post and untying her.“Can you ride?”

“Yes, though I usually prefer to fly or walk,” Gabriel said. Sam shook his head, swinging himself up onto the horse and then scooting as far forward in the saddle as he could. 

“Get up. It'll be faster if we both ride.”

Gabriel eyed the saddle speculatively. There wouldn't be much room for the two of them if he rode with Sam, and though the mare looked placid enough, he didn't want to risk it. He'd found that horses tended not to like things with wings bigger than they were, so he shook his head.

“I'll be fine.” He slung his bag over his shoulder, stepping far enough away so he wouldn't spook the mare when he opened his wings. Gabriel shook out his wings and then took to the sky, launching himself upwards with a powerful down-sweep of his wings and a mighty jump into the air at just the right time. The morning sunshine warmed his feathers as they curled and flexed, driving him upwards until he was about ten feet above Sam and the horse.

“Go on!” he called down. “I'll be right behind you.” 

Sam just looked up at him in frank disbelief before shaking his head and directing his horse down the road and away from the Roadhouse, settling her into an easy pace. Gabriel followed lazily after him, happy to be stretching his wings. They reached twenty-five feet each from tip to shoulder, giving him a total wingspan of fifty feet. Perhaps not as impressive as some, but it was more than enough to propel him through the air with ease. 

Gabriel followed Sam to the house, back-winging agilely and landing on the front path while Sam put the horse in her stall. The house was cozy looking. It was two stories high and painted a pale white with blue trim; there was even a front porch with a swing. It didn't seem like something a bachelor would live in, but rather something that would be fit for a young couple just starting out. The nearest house to it was about a quarter-mile away, so there was privacy but it wasn't too isolated either, even with the woods that surrounded it on three sides.

All in all, the house seemed to be well-kept, and Gabriel could definitely see himself getting used to calling it home. He waited patiently for Sam to join him, and when he did, he followed him into the house, tucking his wings close to his back so he didn't accidentally knock anything off the walls or any side tables. He'd get used to walking around the house, but until then, it was better to be safe than sorry.

Sam took him down a hall that stretched from the front to the back of the house, taking a left about halfway down and going down a much shorter hall that dead-ended at one of the exterior walls. A window let light pour into the hallway, though it was muted by the white linen curtains that were drawn across it. All of the floors were wooden, with the occasional runner or rug to soften the hard surfaces.

“This'll be your room,” Sam said, showing Gabriel a bedroom at the end of the hall, well away from his own, which was upstairs. It was rather spare, with just a bed, a small wardrobe, a woven rug on the floor, and a nightstand by the bed. Gabriel supposed Sam usually reserved this room for guests, judging by its plain décor. No matter. He could always liven it up with some of his own personal belongings. A color change for the walls would be the first thing he'd do; maybe a nice pale blue or gold would be good. There were soft and thick blankets on the bed, something Gabriel was thankful for given the chilly weather and inevitable oncoming snows. He stepped further into the room, looking around before setting his bag of clothes on the bed and then turning to speak with Sam.

“Thanks. I really apprec-- Sam?”

Sam had disappeared, though where he'd gone, Gabriel had no idea. He frowned, moving over to the doorway and looking down the hallway. “Sam?” he repeated, stepping out of the room and listening intently before shrugging and going back in, closing the door behind him. Sam seemed... Well, taciturn wasn't the best way to put it. Brusque, maybe? Yes, that was better, though to be honest, given Jody's description of the two Winchester brothers, Gabriel had expected that state of mind more of Dean than Sam.

With a sigh, Gabriel turned back to his clothes and started putting them away, folding them neatly before setting them in the drawers. Maybe once he and Sam got to know one another better, the Sentinel would open up more towards him. Yes, that could work. Now, how to get Sam's attention without being obvious...

He didn't want to be trapped in some sort of limbo where Sam and him didn't speak at all. After all, Sam had purchased his Guide contract, which meant they had to at the very least speak to one another so Gabriel could help him if he ever went into a fugue or had to use his senses for his work. He thought long and hard, and eventually decided that maybe trying to court Sam would be better than anything else. Subtlety wasn't exactly his strong suit, but Gabriel was willing to try.

Of course, it was more traditional for a Sentinel to court a Guide, but Gabriel suspected that, much like the situation, he'd have to forget about what was traditional and go with his instincts. With that in mind, he set about making a list of what he would need, starting with a wooden box and going from there. 

Over the next two weeks, Gabriel got to know the town, accompanying Sam on his patrols and so on. He eventually learned his way around well enough that he felt comfortable in going places himself. Occasionally he felt like he was being followed or saw a strange flash of yellow in someone's eyes, but shook it off as not being used to the town or a trick of the light. He started to pick up bits and pieces of the courting kit he was making for Sam, starting with a lovely round, dark-stained cedar container that had a mountain carved into the lid.

The courting items went inside: two coins (one steel, one gold); a smooth river stone Gabriel had picked out himself; a string of jade beads; a piece of wood carved by magic into the shape of and painted to look like his spirit animal, Alina; a sprig each of rosemary and lavender tied together with a multicolored braided ribbon, and last but not least, one of his own feathers, curled carefully up inside a small silk bag. All of this was covered with a thin piece of black velvet before the lid was put on. Gabriel would give Sam the figurine first and the feather last, placing an item into the container one week at a time, with the coins acting as one combined item.

Each item traditionally stood for a promise a Sentinel made to their prospective Guide: the coins for financial stability; the river rock for a stable home; the rosemary for fidelity and the lavender for peace, and so on. Usually there were many more objects given, but Gabriel didn't want to stretch it out too long. He put the courting box in the middle of the kitchen table one night a week after he moved in, the small figurine of the tiger standing on top of it. There was no way Sam could miss it like that in the morning.

Feeling satisfied, Gabriel went to his room, closing the door behind him. He just hoped Sam would recognize the box for what it was. The courting box was starting to be put by the wayside more and more in recent years, falling out of fashion in favor of just straightforward relationships. Still, Gabriel had a fondness for traditions like that, and he'd always liked the idea of a courting box, even if he'd never thought he'd be the one giving rather than receiving one.

Gabriel got ready for bed before blowing out the candle, humming softly to himself as he slipped under the covers. If everything worked out, they'd hopefully be considering a bond by midwinter, if not before then. That might have been a little presumptuous, but Gabriel had always been a big dreamer. And for this, he was going to dream as big as he could.


	6. The Refusal

  


The figurine was gone from its place on top of the courting box the morning after Gabriel had put it there, something that struck hope in his heart. His good mood carried through to the next few days, something he didn't bother to hide. He kept up his observations of Sam, noticing one day nearly a week later that the Sentinel always kept a certain kind of hard lemon flavored candies in a jar on his desk. Intrigued, he found out where Sam got them from by asking Garth when Sam was out of the station on a quick errand.

“Huh? Oh, over at Cartwright's Candies on Fifth and Pine,” Garth replied. “They're one of the few candies he actually likes. He usually keeps some around in case he fugues.”

“Really? Why?” Gabriel asked.

Garth shrugged. “I guess they help him focus on other things when he feels a fugue coming on. Now that you're here, though, he shouldn't really need them.”

Gabriel sighed at that and then pulled up a chair, tucking his wings over the back. “You've been working with him for a while, I'm guessing.”

Garth nodded. “Yep.”

“So you know what sets him off, senses-wise.”

“Well, sure, but you're his Guide. Hasn't he told you that sort of thing yet?” Garth asked.

Gabriel shook his head. “Not yet. It's been three weeks and I've yet to see him fugue, thank the gods, but at the same time, he hasn't really talked to me about it.” He sighed, slumping back in his chair. “He doesn't really talk to be about anything, to be honest. Just vague pleasantries or clipped orders.”

Garth's eyebrows rose. “Really? That doesn't sound like the Sam I know.”

“Well, it's the Sam I've been living with for the past three weeks. He's been like that ever since I met him.”

Garth sat back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “You get paid to be his Guide, right?”

“What?”

“You get paid?” Garth repeated. Gabriel nodded, unsure of where the line of questioning was going.

“Of course.”

“Well, if I were you, I'd think about getting some of those candies and keeping them on me at all times just in case,” Garth said. “They could be useful for more than just diverting Sam's fugues. He's sensitive in all five senses, but it's sight, hearing, and smell that are the most sensitive, followed by taste and touch, by the way.”

Gabriel nodded, getting to his feet. “Thanks. I'll keep that in mind. If Sam comes back before I do, tell him I'll meet him for lunch, okay?”

“Will do. And Gabriel?”

“Yes?”

“Good luck.” Garth grinned at him encouragingly, and Gabriel couldn't help but to smile back at him. He liked Garth quite a bit; it was hard not to like him, actually. The deputy was almost always a bundle of joyous energy no matter what he was doing, and for an empath, that was a blessing from the gods to constantly have around. It kept both Gabriel and Bobby centered and energized, which in turn balanced out Jody and Sam's more temperamental natures, though Jody was far more naturally centered than Sam was.

With a newfound purpose and direction, Gabriel grabbed his coat, pulled it on, and then went out into the crisp morning. He took his time walking over to Cartwright's, his hands stuffed into his pockets to ward off the chill. Autumn was rapidly ending and winter approaching with its usual speed, leaving tantalizing hints with frost in the morning and cold, stiff winds that blew around the hems of coats and skirts alike. Gabriel was glad to reach the relative warmth of Cartwright's after walking for about ten minutes or so, a lively bell signaling his arrival into the gloriously perfumed shop interior.

Sweets of all shapes and sizes were packed into glass jars, colorful wrappers, and wooden bins all around the shop. There were even wooden sticks with various flavors of rock candy on them sitting in a small rack on the back counter next to the brass-plated cash register. Gabriel soaked it all in, looking around him in surprise and a good dose of awe. He wouldn't be surprised if the town's dentists both praised and cursed the shop in the same breath.

He made his way to the back counter, unsure of which hard candy it was, exactly, that Sam preferred. A young woman dressed in a neat blue dress and white apron was behind the counter, her light brown wings speckled with flecks of white. She smiled brightly at Gabriel when she saw him, the corners of her eyes crinkling slightly.

“Hello, and welcome to Cartwright's! I'm Melissa. How can I help you today?”

Gabriel returned the smile with one of his own. “I'm Gabriel. It's a pleasure to meet you, Melissa. I'm here looking for a specific candy for my Sentinel.”

Melissa's eyes widened slightly. “You're a Guide?”

Gabriel nodded. “Yep,” he replied. “I'm told you stock a lemon hard candy that Sam Winchester likes to have on hand. I figured it wouldn't hurt to keep some on me just in case.”

“Well, I can certainly help you with that. Sam's one of our best customers. And he's so nice, too.” Melissa bustled out from behind the counter, her wings habitually tucked tight against her back. “He comes in about once a week to get more of those lemon candies. You must love being his Guide. I know there are a lot of people who would give their eyeteeth to have that position.”

As she talked, she wheeled over a short ladder that was attached to rails above the shelves and climbed up to retrieve a large glass jar with the correct candies that was on one of the top shelves. Gabriel didn't reply, his smile faltering slightly as Melissa's attention was diverted away from him. Obviously, she knew a far different Sam than he did.

“Anyways, I'd recommend keeping these in a tin if you'll be carrying them in your pocket,” Melissa continued on as she descended the ladder, using her wings to help her keep her balance. “That way they won't melt as much or get pocket fluff on them.” She stepped down onto the floor and went back over to the counter, putting the jar down before resuming her post behind the well-kept and polished wooden surface. “How much would you like?”

“Well, how much usually fits in a tin?” Gabriel asked, absently sliding his hands into his pockets as he followed her back over to the counter. 

“About one scoop. If you buy a small jar and take that home with you, you can refill the tin from that,” Melissa told him. “That way you won't be constantly coming in here to get refills. It's what Sam does.”

“Then I'll do that. Actually, no, wait, I'll take two small jars. That way I can keep one at home and one at work,” Gabriel said. “Oh, and the pocket tin, of course.”

“Of course.” Melissa quickly had two small glass jars (both with clever hinged lids that stayed in place using a snap-lock on one side) filled with the lemon candies and then wrapped in butcher's paper to help keep them from breaking. She also filled a pocket tin up for Gabriel and handed it to him. He slid it into the inner pocket of his coat before taking his coin-purse out. 

“How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, well, since you're a first time customer, the pocket tin is free. As for the jars... Four copper hares for the lot,” Melissa told him. “The medium jars cost two iron owls and the big ones one gold stag.”

“Pricey, but understandable, given their size,” Gabriel said as he got out the required copper coins and handed them over before putting his coin-purse away. “Here you go.”

“And here you are.” Melissa held the two wrapped jars out to Gabriel, who took them with a nod of thanks. “I hope to see you again soon,” she said. “You and Sam.”

“Same to you,” Gabriel replied, tucking the jars in the crook of his arm. “Thank you again, Melissa.”

“Any time.”

Gabriel left the shop after that, going back to the station to drop off his purchases. He put one jar in the bottom drawer of his desk where it would keep cool until he could take it home, and the other he placed on a corner of the desk, making sure to unwrap the paper from around it. Garth caught sight of it and nodded approvingly.

“Has Sam come in yet?” Gabriel asked as he threw away the wrapping. Garth shook his head.

“Not yet. Victor went out with him and I haven't seen him either.”

Gabriel nodded absently. Victor Henricksen was a good man, though a little uptight at times. He was committed to the job, however, and took protecting the town seriously. Occasionally signs of a desert-dry wit shone through that would startle a laugh out of Gabriel and make him wonder just what else the man was hiding behind that deadpan expression of his. 

“I guess I'll just wait here for Sam, then,” Gabriel mused, settling back in his chair. He took one of the candies from the jar and popped it into his mouth, curious to see why Sam liked them so much. The bright yet sweet flavor of the candy exploded over his tongue, instantly reminding him of sun-drenched summer days. He could definitely see why Sam was so fond of them. They were _delicious_.

As he waited for Sam, Gabriel started in on his paperwork, writing up a report that he'd been meaning to get to for a while. He hadn't been aware of just how much paperwork was actually involved with police work and keeping a town safe, but apparently proper documentation was key when the justice system was involved. Gabriel didn't see Sam until much later in the evening, and by then, Garth had taken pity on him and had gotten soup for the both of them from a nearby shop. It was a deliciously thick and creamy potato soup that was perfect with how the weather was.

Victor stumbled through the door hauling Sam along with him. Sam was dragging his feet and clearly fugued, but not enough to fully impede his movements. Victor carefully deposited him on a nearby bench, getting him to sit there, albeit with the help of the wall behind him. Gabriel immediately got up, abandoning his soup in favor of seeing to Sam, who was staring blankly off into space.

“What happened?” he asked Victor. “Which sense is he focusing on?”

“As far as I can tell, sight. We were chasing a pickpocket, but he vanished in the Warrens,” Victor replied, watching Gabriel crouch in front of Sam. Gabriel nodded idly, trying to find the best way to help Sam. He eventually decided on placing a hand on the back of Sam's neck, getting as close to him as he could without overwhelming or crowding him. It was a delicate balance, but Gabriel managed it.

“Sam? Hey, Sam, you've got to come back to me,” he said quietly. “Come on, focus on the sound of my voice.”

Sam made a quiet noise of confusion, his clouded gaze starting to clear some. “That's it,” Gabriel urged with a soft smile. “Follow me back out of the rabbit hole. I've got some of those lemon candies you like so much. You can have some if you come back to normal.”

As Sam returned to conscious thought, his gaze softened as he focused on Gabriel, almost becoming fond. It was only temporary, though, as once he regained his full faculties, he adopted an annoyed expression. He pushed away Gabriel's hand from his neck with a grunt. “Leave me alone,” he muttered, getting to his feet and shoving past Gabriel. Sam stalked over to his desk, leaving Gabriel to sigh and then straighten up. 

He ignored Garth's slight look of pity and Victor's questioning eyebrow, instead going over to his desk and taking a seat there. Gabriel returned to his soup, focusing on his food, which was now cold and slightly gummy. How lovely.

Fine. Apparently Sam didn't want him touching him. Okay, he could deal with that. Maybe a more traditional approach would be better, though Gabriel wasn't particularly fond of it. All he had to do was make a few preparations.

 

It took a while to gather what he needed, particularly replacements for his Guide and mage's kits, but he eventually managed to get everything in order. He continued on with putting the trinkets in the courting box as he gathered everything but he wasn't sure it was effective or not. One day, though, all of his preparations finally came together. 

That day he got dressed in the stereotypical uniform of a working Guide: his shoes, slacks, shirt, and vest were all in the same dull shade of charcoal black and of soft fabrics, so as not to offend any of Sam's senses. He had also gotten a haircut the previous day. It was trimmed shorter than usual, and was well away from his face. His wings were also groomed down to the last feather. Last but not least, he wore thin fingerless gloves that would allow him to use his magic and maintain just enough skin-to-skin contact with Sam if necessary. 

Now, the thing was, Gabriel absolutely _hated_ wearing the traditional Guide's uniform. He thought it bland and more funereal than anything else, and would rather go around in his underclothing than wear it on a constant basis. However, Sam didn't seem to approve of his normal... well, _anything_ , so Gabriel's thoughts were that maybe if he tried something a little more stoic and uniform-like, then that wouldn't offend Sam's sensibilities as much. At least, that was the thought; he just hoped it worked.

Sam didn't comment on his clothing choices when they walked over to the station, having to leave the horse behind. There was snow on the ground, crisp underfoot and coming up to their ankles, and Sam didn't want to risk the mare hurting herself on a hidden pothole. Both men wore long woolen overcoats and scarves that kept them warm on the way over. Gabriel was glad to reach the warmth of the station, and hung up his coat and scarf on the peg behind his desk before sitting down.

He began rummaging around in his drawer for a report he needed to finish, and only looked up when he felt the uneasy sensation of someone staring at him, as well as a sharp flash of interest directed towards him. Bobby was looking at him curiously, one eyebrow cocked. Gabriel returned the look with a faintly puzzled one of his own, trying to figure out what the older Guide was staring at. Bobby sighed and shook his head but didn't say a word, returning to his reading.

The rest of the day passed relatively normally, though once again, Sam left Gabriel behind when he went out to deal with reports of a robbery at a nearby shop around noon, claiming he didn't need a Guide's help on such a simple matter. He did, however, inform Gabriel that he'd meet him for dinner at the Roadhouse, which brought Gabriel's spirits up some. With the thought of actually sharing a meal with Sam humming away in the back of his mind, the rest of Gabriel's day seemed to fly by.

Gabriel left the station at shift change, quickly pulling on his coat and scarf before heading out for the Roadhouse. He didn't spot Sam right away, so he went up to the bar to place his order with Jo, getting two daily specials. 

“Oh, hi, Gabriel. Sam's already here. He's sitting over by the fireplace if you want to join him,” Jo told him as she wrote down his order. “He hasn't been here long, so don't worry about him waiting too long.”

Gabriel gave her a thankful smile. “Thanks, Jo. I'll be right back to tell you what Sam wants for his drink. Just put me down for a water right now.”

“Alright, but good luck. He doesn't seem much in a mood for food right now,” she warned him. Gabriel nodded and then went to search out Sam. He found him over by the fireplace, just like Jo had said, looking over papers with various statements and crudely sketched floor plans on them.

“I don't have time for food right now, Gabriel,” Sam said shortly, not even looking up at him as he approached. “I'm busy. Go away.”

Gabriel's shoulders slumped slightly, making the tips of his wings brush against the wood of the floor before he corrected his stance. “Oh. Um, alright. Just let me know when you want dinner, okay?”

Sam nodded vaguely, his attention solely on the papers in front of him. Gabriel went over to the bar, giving Jo a faint smile.

“He not hungry yet?” she asked. Gabriel shook his head.

“Not yet. Better put a hold on that meal for two,” he said, taking a seat at the end of the bar. “Well, the food for him, anyways. I'll take the roast beef sandwich and that water, please.”

“Sure thing,” Jo said. “Be right back.”

She disappeared into the kitchen behind the bar, returning a few minutes later with the sandwich and a large glass of water. Gabriel nodded his thanks, looking forward to enjoying his dinner. He was halfway through his meal when he heard people talking behind him. He didn't think much of it until he heard Sam's name.

“Think Sam's ever going to bond with him?” asked a man, barely keeping his voice down.

“Doubt it. You know what Sam's like. A lone wolf and all that,” said his companion. “You really think Sam's gonna try to bond again, 'specially for another man?”

The first man snorted. “I doubt it. As far as I know, Sam ain't exactly the kind who goes for a roll in the hay with other men, Guides or not.”

“True, but I thought it didn't matter with Sentinels and Guides? If they're a match, then it don't matter what's below the belt.”

“Yeah, well, apparently it does for Sam. Why else would he not bond with him? Poor fella. Must be lonely rattling around in that house with no one to talk to except the birds. Least they all have wings.” The first man chuckled softly and then sighed. “Come on, Rex; we'd better get goin'. Otherwise Margie will have our hides.”

“Oh, gods, that woman... Say, Joel, speaking of matches, when are you finally going to get up the courage to actually talk to Rachel? You've been mooning over her for weeks now,” Rex said as he and Joel passed by. Gabriel kept his eyes on his sandwich, doing his best not to indicate he'd heard them talking. He didn't look up until Jo came up to check on him.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Can I get a beer?” he asked quietly. “The darker and stronger the better, please.”

“Sure thing.” Jo poured the beer and then set it in front of Gabriel. He smiled lopsidedly at her before turning to look at Sam. His heart dropped when he didn't see him anywhere.

“He left about five minutes ago,” Jo supplied. “Said he needed to talk to Bobby about something.”

“Oh. Well, looks like I'll be staying here, then. The sandwich is good,” Gabriel told her, turning back around. “Thanks for the beer.”

“No problem. Let me know if you need anything else, okay? I'll be around,” Jo told him with an easy smile before moving off to help bus tables. Gabriel nodded, taking a large swig of his beer. It was lukewarm, but he didn't bother cooling it down. He was too preoccupied for that.

Half an hour later, Gabriel was halfway through his second beer when he saw Dean and Castiel enter the Roadhouse out of the corner of his eye. He didn't acknowledge them, even when Castiel spotted him and pulled Dean over.

“There you are,” Dean said as he and Castiel drew near, walking hand-in-hand with rosy cheeks from being outside in the cold. “We've been looking all over for you. Sam said you stayed here after dinner.”

Gabriel shrugged morosely, remaining quiet as he clutched his beer mug in both hands. Dean looked more closely at him, his eyes widening slightly when he realized what state Gabriel was in. “How many of those have you had?”

“One and a half,” Gabriel replied, stumbling slightly over his words. “I'm gonna finish this one and then get more.”

“What's wrong?” Castiel asked, taking a seat next to him. “This isn't like you, brother.”

“Why does anything need to be wrong?” Gabriel asked peevishly. “Can't I drink in peace?”

“Well, normally I'd say yes, but I could feel you hurting from a hundred feet away. Not to mention you're wearing a Guide's uniform, which you absolutely detest," Castiel retorted. “Don't lie to me. What's wrong?”

Gabriel gave Castiel a sharp look before sighing. “Sam,” he said, staring down at his lukewarm beer. “What am I doing wrong? Why does he hate me so much? He can barely stand to look at me, let alone acknowledge my existence. And gods help me, I still have feelings for him, the idiot that I am. ”

Gabriel's wings sagged as his face crumpled into sadness. He didn't start crying, but it was a near thing. He tended to get maudlin when he was drunk, and being an empath didn't help matters much, as the alcohol lowered his normally strong mental shields to something resembling wet tissue paper. Castiel put a hand on his shoulder, gripping it gently. 

“Oh, Gabriel. He'll come around,” he reassured him as Dean carefully removed the beer mug from Gabriel's loose grip. “You'll see. I'm sure you'll be laughing about this come midwinter.”

“That's not that far away,” Gabriel countered, glaring weakly at Dean. “Two weeks at most. I don't think he'll change in that short of a time.”

“You never know,” Dean said, pushing the beer far out of Gabriel's reach. “Sam can turn emotions in a split second. One day he could dislike you, and the next, defend you with his very life.”

Gabriel huffed at that. “It's been almost two and a half months. I think I've spent enough time waiting.” He got off his stool and then pulled out his coin-purse in order to pay, but Castiel shook his head as he got to his feet. 

“Let me, Gabriel.” He took the coin-purse from Gabriel's fumbling fingers and took out the correct amount plus a good tip before handing the bag back to Gabriel. “Come on, let's get you home. We can stop by the apothecary and get you an anti-hangover potion.”

Gabriel made a face at the suggestion. “That stuff tastes and smells like feet. I hate it.”

Dean laughed softly. “Yeah, it does, but it helps,” he said, strolling alongside Gabriel's other side while Castiel helped support his brother. “Just drink a lot of water once you take it.”

“I plan on it. I don't want to wake up with my mouth feeling like a mouse has used it to sleep in.”

They left the Roadhouse, Castiel and Dean making sure to avoid the topic of Sam as much as they could. Between the two of them, they managed to keep Gabriel diverted until they got him home and settled in his bed, with half the hangover potion taken and a glass of water by his bed should he wake up thirsty in the middle of the night. The other half of the potion was to be taken when Gabriel woke up; thankfully, neither he nor Sam were scheduled to work the next day.

Castiel and Dean said goodbye and good night, leaving Gabriel to his slumber. Gabriel tossed and turned until he was able to get comfortable. As he lay there in the dark, he was glad for the soundproofing spells he'd laid on his room, because there was no way in any of the seven hells he was going to let Sam hear him cry because of him.


	7. The Parting

  


The next day, snow fell outside the windows in wave after wave of flakes, the silent white crystals adding to the thick coating that already layered the ground and roofs. Gabriel sat in the small library that was adjacent to Sam's study, curled up in one of the armchairs near the fireplace with a mug of cinnamon-laced hot chocolate and a good book. He was feeling much better than yesterday, and figured some quiet time alone was just what he needed.

Gabriel was so absorbed in the story that he didn't even realize someone had come into the room until a familiar voice broke him out of his reverie.

“Hello, Gabriel.”

Gabriel looked up from his book to find Sam standing in front of him with a fond smile. He marked his place with a finger, arching an eyebrow. Strange. He hadn't expected Sam to be back for a while, especially since he was helping Dean with tracking down some sort of monster that had managed to get into the town overnight, wreaking havoc wherever it went. Sam hadn't said what it was before he'd left, only that Gabriel needn't come, so he wasn't sure what, exactly, his Sentinel was hunting.

“Hello,” he replied. “Can I help you with something?”

“I hope so,” Sam said, his smile never wavering. He held out a hand. “Come with me?”

Intrigued, Gabriel set his book aside and took Sam's hand, wondering what was going on. Had the courting box and all the changes he'd made finally worked? He did his best to keep his hopefulness at bay, but it was hard not to get his hopes up given the way Sam was acting. 

He followed Sam downstairs, curious to see what the Sentinel had in mind. As usual, he couldn't get any sort of read off Sam beyond surface emotions, and right then, Sam wasn't giving anything off except low-level excitement.

“Um, Sam?” he said as they went into the living room, which was almost entirely dark. The curtains were drawn across the windows and only the low-burning fire provided a scant amount of light to see by. “Why's it so dark in here? Shouldn't we turn on the lights?”

“Just wait and see,” was the reply. Sam led Gabriel further into the room, making him squint in an attempt to see where he was stepping. “Okay, stop here.”

“Sam? What--” Gabriel began, but he was cut off when Sam's lips met his. He made a muffled noise of surprise, temporarily taken off guard. Well, this was new. New, but not unwelcome in the least. Maybe Dean had been right.

He started to relax into the kiss, his eyes sliding shut and his wings fluttering slightly. The relaxation didn't stop, however; Gabriel could feel all of his muscles going lax and unresponsive, and by the time he'd thought to start panicking, his body had gone entirely limp. He almost dropped to the floor, but was stopped by a pair of strong arms encircling his waist and then lowering him down onto the fireside rug with the utmost care.

“Oh, you are _perfect_ ,” Sam said delightedly, a highly pleased grin spreading across his face as he crouched beside Gabriel. “He doesn't know what he's missing. The depth of your love for him...” He tutted softly, reaching out and tracing a finger over Gabriel's jaw. “It's wonderful, really, it is. And he can't be bothered to look past his own grief and bullheadedness to see it. Pity. A well-bonded pair is always the most powerful, I've found. Oh, well. I'll just have to make do.”

Gabriel made a bewildered noise, which was about all he could do. He could move neither arms nor legs, and he was only taking the shallowest of breaths required for him to survive. What the hell was going on? Obviously this wasn't the real Sam, since _his_ Sam wouldn't have kissed him in the first place.

Gabriel was suddenly furious with himself. He should have known. Of _course_ it wasn't Sam. Sam was the one who ignored him and only barely acknowledged his existence, not someone who kissed him in a romantic setting like Gabriel had dreamed of for some time now. He glared weakly at the thing that dared to wear Sam's face, making it smirk. Its eyes flashed a dull yellow, the sickly color of bile and vomit. 

“Oh, don't worry. I won't kill you. Yet.” Suddenly there was a hard finger under Gabriel's chin, tipping it back with the faintest hint of sulfur, which clued Gabriel in to what it was: a demon, though the eyes had led his thoughts towards that conclusion as well. “No, we're going to wait the others come. Shh. Don't make a sound; that would just ruin the surprise.”

The hand patted Gabriel's cheek and then withdrew. To Gabriel's horror, the thing masquerading as Sam dragged him so he was laying half-hidden between the couch and the coffee table before proceeding to thoroughly mess up everything: it tore up the cushions, tossed ash from the ash bucket everywhere, smashed the coffee table and scattered some of the pieces over Gabriel, and generally made absolute chaos of the room. It added soot to its hair and clothes before ruffling them, making it look like it had been in a fight.

The final touch was some blood smeared across both of their faces and hands, taken from a shallow wound the demon made across Gabriel's torso. “Time to wait,” the demon said cheerfully as it tied Gabriel up with some torn fabric from blankets, securing his arms, wings, and legs, as well as gagging him with a strip across his mouth. “They should be here soon, I expect. I did leave a rather obvious trail, and Sentinels do so hate to see their little packs threatened, now don't they?”

It lurked near the window, idly leaning against the wall and idly playing with the knife it had used to make Gabriel's wounds.

“Well, this is boring,” the demon said after about ten minutes of waiting. “I thought they would've been here by now. Hmm. What to do, what to do. Oh, I know: a little story should pass the time suitably enough.”

A story? Gabriel wasn't sure he wanted to hear what the demon had to say, but he didn't exactly have any choice. He sighed softly and then focused on working free from his bonds, trying to subtly use his magic to fray them. They were tied tight, though, so it would take some time to get through them without the demon noticing.

“I think you'll like this one. It has to do with you, after all.” The demon perched on the edge of the ruined couch, folding its hands in its lap. “I'm sure you want to know why Sam refuses to bond with you, right? Of course you do.” It smiled and then straightened up. “So, let's begin. Like with all good stories, it starts like this: 'once upon a time'.

“Once upon a time, there was a young Sentinel named Samuel. He was sixteen and very eager to see the world. He lived with his father and older brother in a small town; both were Sentinels like him. His older brother, Dean, was content in staying with his father and learning the family business of hunting and protecting their fair town from the monsters that lurked in the dark forest nearby. 

“But Samuel... Oh, Samuel was filled with wanderlust. So, he applied to the Sentinel Academy in a far-off city. His father wasn't pleased with that, but there wasn't much he could do save for wish his son a safe journey and ask that Samuel remember him and Dean on occasion. Samuel made his promises and then left, his heart light and his mind ready to be expanded.”

As the demon talked, Gabriel couldn't help but to be pulled into the story, though he never once stopped trying to get free. His bonds were proving to be harder to get out of than he thought, and any attempt he tried to make to reach Alina through the mental bond they shared ended in failure.

“Samuel arrived in the great city ready and willing to learn,” the demon continued on. “He saw many things he'd never witnessed before, during, or after his time at the Academy. While he was at the Academy, he met a wonderful young Guide by the name of Jessica. They felt a light bond form almost immediately, and Samuel was hopelessly besotted with her. He planned on courting her, and indeed, began to do so right away. Just before they were to make the final bond, though, a great fire tore through the lodging house they were staying at, killing many, including poor, sweet Jessica.

“Samuel was heartbroken and vowed not to take a Guide again any time soon. He returned home, heartsick and weary. Time did its duty and dulled the pain over the next few years, until one day, when Samuel had just turned nineteen, he met Madison. She had just moved to Samuel's town not long before, and, as luck would have it, she was a Guide. Again, Samuel began to court the person he thought would be his lifelong partner, though he was a little more wary this time around, and with good reason, for Madison wasn't all that she seemed.

“She was perfectly normal at first: a charming, winsome young woman, but the light of the full moon showed her true self. She became a ravenous wolf under that pale light, hungering only for the still-beating hearts of the populace around her. There was no cure for her condition, and silvered bars could only hold her back for so long before the wolf took over completely, leaving no trace of the innocent young woman behind. Samuel was the one who had to put her down, as he was the only one who could draw close enough to her to put the silver blade in her heart. With the death of his second almost-Guide at his own hands, Samuel vowed never to take another Guide again, and hardened his heart against the possibility of ever finding his true partner. In his mind he started calling himself Guide-killer and worthless, unable to make a complete bond or even a temporary one in fear of endangering another soul.”

“Now, here's where the story gets _really_ interesting,” the demon said, winking broadly at Gabriel. “Jump forward in time two more years. Samuel was a sheriff's deputy at twenty-one years of age, more than enough to be considered an adult by any definition. His brother went behind his back and purchased the contracts of two angelic brother-Guides from the same distant city that Samuel himself had once trained in. It was unsure as to whether or not the Guides would even be able to bond with them, but Dean was willing to take that chance. After all, seeing Samuel so different than the young man he remembered going off to the Academy was hurting Dean more than he could say.

“So, after a surprisingly perilous journey, the two Guides arrived in the small town, travel-worn and weary. They ran into some of the more colorful local Sentinels, defending their honor as was their right. The town's Sheriff and her Guide protected them, providing food, lodging, and clothing to replace that which was lost on the journey. The next morning, the two sets of brothers met, though Sam was very reluctant to do so. After all, he didn't want another Guide. He'd already lost two, and one of those by his own hand. To bear the loss of a third... That was unthinkable, so he hardened his heart even more.

“Dean was almost immediately taken by the younger of the Guides, the preliminary bond forming instantly between the two of them. However, since Samuel had closed off his heart and mind to forming a new bond, the elder of the two Guides was left floundering, particularly when he recognized the high potential of the bond between himself and Samuel. It was the strongest he'd ever felt, and most likely as strong as he'd ever feel. That Guide was you.”

The demon tapped Gabriel on the nose with a grin. “And here you are, nearly two and a half months later with nothing to show for it except a continually aching heart and the realization that Samuel will never love you like you love him. Like I said before, such a pity. But at least you know why, now.” It paused, tilting its head to one side to listen to something far off before smirking. “Ah, perfect timing. Now to get into position.”

It left Gabriel where he lay and then went over to the fireplace, grabbing one of the fire pokers and then effortlessly bending it enough to look like it had been used as a weapon and hit against something hard. The demon then smeared some of Gabriel's blood on the poker, drawing its hand across the damp fabric of his shirt to get the blood. It waited patiently, collapsing down onto the broken couch just moments before Dean charged in and hastily turned on the lights; Castiel, Bobby, and Jody all followed him, coming up short when they saw the state of the living room and what lay before them: Gabriel all tied up and Sam supposedly wounded.

“Sam? What's going on here?” Castiel asked, cautiously stepping forward. Dean shook his head, pulling him back so Castiel was shielded behind him.

“Demon. It almost got me, but I managed to subdue it,” the demon said with a tired grin. Gabriel made a muffled noise of complaint, but the demon poked him with the bent end of the fire iron. Gabriel glared venomously at it, struggling against his bonds. Whatever paralyzing agent the demon had used was starting to wear off now, and Gabriel found he could move more than he had before.

“Prove it,” Bobby said warily. “How do we know you're really Sam?”

The demon's smile faltered slightly but soon recovered. “Of course I'm really Sam. I was born here in New Haven to Mary and John Winchester. I've lived here all my life. Come on, Bobby, you know it's me.”

Down on the floor, Gabriel had finally burned through the bonds around his wrists with his magic, making him grunt in satisfaction. He quickly broke free, rolling out of reach of the demon before scrambling to undo his gag as he sat upright. There was a piece of wood sticking loosely into his feathers from the broken table, but he ignored it and instead focused on the others, who were pointing their guns at both him and the demon.

“Don't shoot!” he yelped, holding up his hands in a panic. “I'm actually Gabriel. That guy's the demon.” Gabriel looked over at Castiel as he pulled the loose wood out of his wing, undoing the bonds there as he did so. “And I can prove it. Cas: Lady Magnus' black cat was named Nikola, and for the longest time I thought it was a vampire, remember? I convinced you to help me prove it when I was seven and you were five, but all we got for our troubles was a lot of smashed garlic and cat scratches all over the place, as well as a lifetime ban from the Magnus estate.”

He turned his attention to Bobby, trying to convince him as well. “You take your coffee with one sugar and a little cream, and hate it when I use more than two sugar cubes in my coffee from the office supplies. You hate all the paperwork we have to deal with at the station, but know it's necessary because otherwise the lawyers and judges would have conniption fits about it.”

“Don't listen to him!” the demon snapped. “A demon can access its host's memories, remember? He's pulling that from thin air.”

Gabriel threw it a withering glare as he undid the bindings around his ankles and then stood up. “Oh, shut up you overgrown mimic bird. Fine. If you want to go that route...”

He rolled up his sleeves, showing off his tattoos. “Magic,” he said simply, bending his arms at the elbows to display his forearms. The river on his left arm changed into a sinuous dragon, its red-gold scales shimmering in the lights as it roared silently, while the vines on his right arm grew wicked looking thorns, viscous poison glistening on them. For the final proof, Gabriel conjured up a near-perfect lily, its white petals brushed lightly with the merest hint of pink along the edges, and held it out to Jody with a flourish, who took it cautiously before stepping back.

“Your turn, parrot,” Gabriel snarked, sending a viciously victorious grin the demon's way. “Demons can't do magic; they _are_ magic. Magical Creatures and Beings 101, Madame Carriger, year three, _ha_!”

All eyes were on the demon, who smiled bitterly. “Of course I can't do magic. I never learned how.”

Gabriel snorted. “Wrong! Sam knows how to use restraining spells and charms.”

The demon gave up all pretense of pretending to be Sam at that moment, instead diving straight for Dean, who it deemed to be the biggest threat in the room, its eyes flaring yellow. It got about three feet before it suddenly made a strangled noise and slammed hard down onto the floor, held fast by a dark red magical field. Sam looked over at Gabriel, who had a hand flung out towards the demon, his wings half-flared and his face set in stony anger.

“You will _not_ touch a member of my pack!” Gabriel snarled, eyes ablaze with fury. His whole body trembled with the strain of him holding back his rage, his feathers rasping harshly together. “Make one move except to breathe and you're finished.”

“Don't kill it, Gabriel,” Bobby said quickly. “Not yet. We need to get it out of Sam first.”

Gabriel nodded tersely. “What do you want me to do?”

“Can you make it hold still? Good. Just keep it there, alright?” Jody told him. She and Bobby began to chant an exorcism, making the demon snarl and complain. Eventually, though, the exorcism was finished and the demon left Sam in a cloud of smoke. Gabriel lifted the spell then, and Bobby helped Sam onto his feet.

With that done, Gabriel started to clean up the living room, moving on auto-pilot. “I'll have this back to normal soon,” he told Sam as he worked. “Don't worry about it.”

“I wasn't,” Sam admitted. The others quietly left, saying their goodbyes once they were sure Gabriel and Sam were okay. Castiel lingered in the doorway, but Dean ushered him out, muttering something about letting Sam and Gabriel work things out. Gabriel paid them no mind, too focused on restoring everything to order. After all, Sam couldn't live in a house that was torn up like this. There were too many hazards in the living room alone that could send him into a fugue. He gently shooed Sam out, ignoring his protests.

“Gabriel-- Gabriel, _stop_ ,” Sam said, turning around and putting his hands on Gabriel's shoulders. Gabriel looked up at him, confused. 

“But... If you stay in there, you could go into a fugue, and you get cranky when you come out of a fugue. I don't have any of those lemon drops on me that you like, and-- Hey!” Sam cut Gabriel off with a hand over his mouth and arched eyebrows. Gabriel stared back at him, a frown drawing his brows downward.

“Are you going to be quiet?” Sam asked. Gabriel just gave him an irritable look. “I mean it. Let me talk, okay?”

Gabriel sighed and then crossed his arms over his chest, pointedly waiting for Sam to go on. Sam warily took his hand away from Gabriel's mouth, watching him for a few seconds before nodding. “Good. Now, what exactly went on before the others got here? One minute I was helping Dean, the next minute I was on the floor, wondering what the hell was going on.”

“I thought you wanted me to be quiet,” Gabriel pointed out. Sam sighed sharply, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“Just answer the question. Please.”

“Well, I was reading, and then you came home, but obviously it wasn't you.” Gabriel's mouth twisted bitterly. “I should've realized it from the start, but I wasn't exactly looking for signs of a demon with paralytic saliva at the time.”

“Wait, paralytic saliva?”

Gabriel nodded. “Yes,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. “It also talked about bonded pairs being the most powerful? I'm not sure what it meant, exactly. I was rather too busy panicking at the time to pay much attention.”

“How'd you find out about the saliva?” Sam asked. Gabriel looked away.

“It doesn't matter,” he muttered. “What matters is that I found out, okay?”

“Gabriel.” Sam looked sternly at him, making him shift awkwardly on the spot.

“What? It didn't last that long. Maybe a half hour at most?”

“How did you find out?” Sam repeated firmly. “Gabriel, I need to know.”

Gabriel's wings shifted uncomfortably. “It kissed me,” he said quietly, looking down at the floor. “I didn't realize it wasn't you until after that.”

“And why didn't you realize that it wasn't me?” Sam gritted out. “Damn it, Gabriel, just give me a straight answer here!”

“Because I thought the courting box had finally worked!” Gabriel snapped, looking up at him. “I mean, I was surprised, especially given how yesterday went, but I thought it was a good thing!” He looked away sharply, hunching his wings over his shoulders. “Obviously I was wrong.”

“Wait, courting box? What courting box?”

Gabriel stared at Sam in disbelief. “The one that's been sitting in the middle of the dining room table for the past two and a half months? Surely you've noticed it there?”

“I haven't used the dining room in a while,” Sam replied, shaking his head. “I eat in the kitchen or at the Roadhouse. It's easier that way.”

Gabriel let out an annoyed huff. “Easier that way. Right. Gods, that son of a bitch was telling the truth,” he muttered. “Fine. I give up. You win.” He turned on his heel to go, but was stopped by Sam's hand around his wrist.

“Let me go, Sam,” he said, not bothering to look at the Sentinel behind him.

“No. Not until you explain what you're talking about,” Sam said. Gabriel gritted his teeth and then pulled free from Sam's grip before turning back to face him.

“What I'm talking about? I'm talking about you ignoring me ever since I got here. It's nearly midwinter and you have yet to even acknowledge the fact that I'm your Guide. We live in the same house and work at the same place, but it's like I'm a ghost to you. Well, you know what? I'm done being invisible. I've been willing to wait for you to get your act together, but I'm tired of waiting. That _thing_ told me more about your past than you have,” Gabriel snapped. “You've never mentioned having Guides before. You're so busy living in the past that you can't see what's right in front of you in the present. And you know what? If that's how it's going to be, then I won't be here for the future.”

He whirled around and then left, going upstairs to his room and locking the door with a growl of frustration. It spoke of just how precarious the situation with Sam had always been when it took Gabriel less than ten minutes to pack the few changes of clothes and various knickknacks he'd acquired over the time he'd lived there. He put them in his bag and then slung it over his shoulder, not bothering to find Sam on his way out.


	8. The Conversation

  


Once he got into town, Gabriel stopped at the sheriff's office, leaving a quickly-written letter with Garth to give to Castiel. At least his brother had gained peace in his bonding with Dean; for all their troubles and poking at one another, they made a good pair. With that done, Gabriel went to the airfield and started looking at the various airships that were currently moored there. He briefly dallied with the idea of taking one all the way to the Pearl Isles, where he'd heard the sun shone year-round and there were golden beaches for miles, but he decided against it, instead booking passage on an express airship back to Desay.

With his decision made, Gabriel paid the expected exorbitant fee for the ticket, securing himself a berth on the sleek airship aptly named the _Silver Falcon_. His tiny one-bunk cabin even had a small window that looked out the west side of the ship. He stowed his luggage and then locked his door. Gabriel was saddened that he had to leave Castiel behind, and made a promise to himself that he'd write as often as he could. After all, Castiel hadn't done anything wrong, so Gabriel wasn't about to cut him out of his life. 

Out of a sort of morbid curiosity, Gabriel watched the airfield through the window, sitting on the small bench-seat in front of it. He curled his wings around him, wondering if Sam would suddenly see reason and come running into view just in time. Gabriel promptly snorted in disbelief at the thought. This wasn't one of the tawdry romance novels his sister Anna was so fond of; this was real life. Real life didn't work like that. Still, he found himself sitting there until the bell rang that announced the ship's casting off, and didn't move until the airfield and the town of New Haven was out of sight.

Gabriel kept to himself during the journey, only speaking when necessary to the other passengers at meals and if they passed in the halls. Otherwise, he kept to his cabin or the on-board library, passing the time by reading or sleeping. By the time the ship reached its destination four days later, Gabriel had all but convinced himself that he was fine, and wasn't, in face, mourning the loss of a Sentinel who was supremely suited to him but too stubborn to see it, as well as one of the few people he'd loved truly and deeply. Gabriel was a good liar, and he was best at lying to himself.

  


Winter passed into spring, with snow making way for fresh blooms and new life. Gabriel barely noticed any of it; he was sequestered in the small suite of rooms he'd been given at the Guide Academy, doing little more than reading and generally feeling sorry for himself. He'd felt horrible ever since he'd set foot in Desay, with his body aching and his mind fuzzy. If he didn't know any better, he would have said he was suffering from separation sickness due to being too far away from Sam, but since they didn't even have a preliminary bond, that was impossible.

He was laying on his couch one fine day, the window cracked open just a little bit to let some fresh air in, when someone knocked on the front door several times. Gabriel tried to ignore it, his head aching like nothing else, but whoever was there was persistent, knocking a second time. With a groan, Gabriel got to his feet, looking down at himself. He wore an undershirt and lightweight trousers, all he'd managed to get dressed in before shambling out to the living room.

Gabriel shrugged. Whoever was at the door would have to deal with him like this, propriety be damned. He sluggishly made his way over to the door, pulling it open before whoever was on the other side could knock again. He stared blearily at the woman on the other side before sighing and then stepping back to let her in.

“Charlie, what are you doing here?” he asked, closing the door behind her. “Not that I'm not happy to see you, but you don't usually visit without a reason.”

Charlie shrugged. “I heard you were back in town and wanted to say hello.” Her skirts rustled as she sat down on the couch. “You look like a horse ran over you. Repeatedly.”

“I feel like it,” Gabriel replied, taking a seat across from his fellow Guide on a chair. “I've been like this ever since I got back nearly two months ago. I must've caught something on the way over.”

Charlie hummed softly, looking thoughtful. “You don't think it has anything to do with that Sentinel of yours, does it?”

“Sam?” Gabriel scoffed. “I highly doubt it.”

“You sure?”

Gabriel looked suspiciously at her. “What are you talking about?” he asked warily, eyes narrowed. “What are you planning?”

“Me? Planning something? What gives you that idea?” Charlie replied innocently. Gabriel snorted.

“Because you're acting far too evasive. That Sentinel of yours is a bad influence,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Let's just say I won't be your only visitor today. And Dorothy's fine, thanks for asking,” Charlie said, getting to her feet in a rustle of crinolines. “Speaking of her, I've got to get back. It's been wonderful seeing you, Gabe. Let me know how it goes.”

“How _what_ goes?” Gabriel followed her to the door, completely puzzled.

“You'll see,” Charlie replied, opening the door and stepping out into the hall. “Oh, and get dressed. I might not mind, but the rest of the world does.”

With that, she walked off, leaving Gabriel highly confused. He shook his head, wincing at the pain the motion caused, and then went back inside. Figuring he might as well take some of Charlie's advice, he got dressed, putting on a casual shirt before attempting to tame his hair and feathers with a basic grooming spell. Besides a few singed feathers, all went well, and he at least looked better than he had in a while. 

A dose of headache remedy helped soothe the constant low-level buzz in the back of his mind, forcing it down to a dull rumble instead of the bright, sharp whine it normally was at. Unsure of when his supposed guests would be coming, Gabriel retired back to the couch, laying on his side and closing his eyes. He fell asleep rather quickly, his weariness getting the better of him now that his headache was somewhat under control.

He was awoken an hour or so later by a series of sharp knocks on his door. Gabriel slowly got up, noticing that the headache remedy had worn off. Damn. He'd have to get a stronger mixture next time. Gabriel went over to the door, wondering if these were, in fact, the visitors Charlie had been talking about. 

It took him a few seconds to register who was on the other side of the door, and when he did, he made to slam it closed once more. Sam didn't let him, catching hold of it before Gabriel could close it. 

“Gabriel, let us in,” Sam gritted out, prying the door open once again. “I need to talk to you.”

“No way,” Gabriel replied. “I'm not speaking to you, not here.”

“Then maybe you'll speak with him elsewhere?” Castiel stepped out from behind Sam, Dean at his side, which made Gabriel pause. He narrowed his eyes and then sighed exasperatedly. 

“Fine, but not here. Have Sam meet me at the Founders' willow in the Serenity Gardens. Give me ten minutes,” he said, prising Sam's fingers from the door. “I'll see you there.”

“”But--”

“Just Sam, or I don't come,” Gabriel snapped before slamming the door shut and then promptly locking it. He stomped off to his bedroom to get his coat and shoes, putting them on quickly before going back out into the main room once more. He sighed, running a hand through his hair before heading over to the large window, pushing it open and using it as an exit, winging through the air until he reached the Founders' willow. 

Gabriel came to rest on one of the lower branches, settling with his back against the trunk. The Founders' willow was a magnificent weeping willow with closely-set branches that brushed the ground all around it. It provided a sylvan sanctuary for all those who visited it. As he waited, Gabriel cast a privacy spell that soundproofed the immediate area around the willow, making sure no one could listen in on his and Sam's conversation. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating a cool green shade and throwing dappled patterns across the ground and Gabriel's face.

Sam showed up five minutes later, with Castiel pushing him through the curtain of branches before disappearing from sight. Gabriel watched Sam look around and then up, obviously hearing the small sounds he made as he sat there.

“Get down here,” Sam demanded, arms crossing over his chest.

“With that attitude?” Gabriel scoffed. “Not likely. Try again and maybe I'll consider it.”

Sam let out a sharp huff of air in annoyance. “Fine. Would you please come down here?” he asked through gritted teeth. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“Better,” he said, jumping down to join Sam on the ground, his wings half-flared to help slow his descent, “but it needs work.”

Sam sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Whatever. So. Let's talk.”

“About what? I'm pretty sure I said everything I needed to when I left,” Gabriel replied, stepping away from the tree trunk. “Or did it not sink in that I didn't want to deal with how you were treating me any more?”

Sam growled in annoyance and then pushed Gabriel back against the tree with one hand on his shoulder. “I didn't come here to talk to you about that,” he snapped, pressing in close to Gabriel. “I came to talk to you about the spell you put on me before you left.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes and pushed Sam's hand away. “I didn't put any spell on you, trust me. I wouldn't waste my power like that.”

“Yeah? Then why have I been feeling like this ever since you left?” Sam pressed. Gabriel shook his head.

“I don't know. I've been feeling horrible as well, but I had nothing to do with it,” he said. “You think I would actually want this to happen? That's a definite no.”

“Well, fix it,” Sam insisted firmly. “Obviously you're the cause of it.”

“I can't fix something if I don't know what's causing it,” Gabriel snapped back, pushing away from the tree trunk. Sam growled in annoyance. 

“Well, do _something_! If you can't fix it, then maybe you can explain why I can't get you out of my mind? Why every time I turn to look at something, I'm reminded of you?” Sam asked, an almost plaintive note in his voice that surprised Gabriel. “Why do you keep staying around even when you're gone? It's not fair.”

Gabriel blinked and then laughed long and hard, something Sam obviously hadn't been expecting. 

“What? Why are you laughing?” he demanded.

“Because,” Gabriel said, wiping a tear from his eye, “what you just said-- Listen to yourself, Sam! 'I can't get you out of my mind'. 'Everywhere I look, I'm reminded of you'. Put it together!”

Sam just stared at him with a puzzled look. Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

“You are an idiot,” he told him flatly. “Seriously, Sam, think about what you just said. Maybe then you'll get a clue.”

He made to walk away, but Sam grabbed him by the arm. This time, Gabriel didn't let momentum jerk him to a stop, but instead turned and pushed Sam back, pressing him against the trunk of the willow with his free arm braced across Sam's chest.

“Don't touch me,” he growled, jerking his wrist free of Sam's grip. “I'm in no mood to be trifled with, and you're not helping matters. You want to know why you can't just push me aside, even though you've done your damnedest to do that for as long as we've known one another? It's because we're just as well suited for one another as Dean and Cas are for each other. You've heard of true pairs?”

Sam nodded dully.

“I could feel our compatibility the moment you walked through the Roadhouse's door. The odds of finding a match like that are literally once in a lifetime, and even that's rarer than a dragon's tooth. You think every pair is like that?” Gabriel scoffed, shaking his head before stepping away from Sam. “Sam, I can't change what happened in the past to you. No one can, not even the gods. But if you keep denying yourself things because you think you don't deserve them, then you'll miss out on so much.”

He turned to go, but Sam's soft voice stopped him dead in his tracks. 

“I don't want you to go. Please, come back with us. To me.”

“Sam...” Gabriel sighed, and when he spoke again, his tone was gentle, as if he were speaking to a confused child. “Sam, it's been two months. In all that time, you've never once sent me a letter or an ætherogram, nothing, especially when you had the ability to do so. Tell me, why would I want to go back to how you were treating me? That kind of thing sticks with a person and makes them very hesitant to return to the place they were all but banished from.”

He turned around to look at Sam, who was watching him with a plaintive look.

“I didn't want you to go,” Sam said, briefly looking down at the ground with a mix of frustration and weariness. “I... I didn't know what to do. I was scared you'd end up like the others.”

“Like Jess, you mean?” Gabriel prompted. “Or Madison?”

Sam nodded, taking a seat on the ground with his back against the willow's trunk. “I've lost Guides too many times, Gabriel. Dean went behind my back when he purchased your contract for me. It wasn't fair to either of us.”

“No, it wasn't,” Gabriel agreed. He walked over to Sam, crouching in front of him so they could look one another in the eye. “So, it looks like we've got two choices: one, I keep living here and we break off any and all communication and move on with our lives, or we try and work out what it is we've got going on between us, assuming there is anything. Given how we've both been affected by what seems to be separation sickness even without a proper bond, I'd say there's something there, even if you didn't recognize it immediately when we first met.”

“You did.”

Gabriel blinked at that. “Sorry?”

“Cas and Dean... They said...” Sam explained awkwardly. “They said that you... you had feelings for me.”

Gabriel let out an annoyed huff. “That was told to them under strict confidence, even if I was drunk at the time,” he said, turning his head briefly towards where he assumed Dean and Castiel were waiting as he spoke the last half of the sentence, even if they couldn't hear him. He shook his head and then looked back at Sam. “Sam, I honestly don't know if I can regain those kinds of feelings for you. Not right away, anyways. What you did... It hurt. A lot. And it still does. It's going to take time for that hurt to heal. I'd be willing to make a preliminary bond with you so you don't go into sensory fugues as often, but unless something happens to change my mind or the situation, it might be some time before I'd consider a permanent bond.”

“I can live with that,” Sam said immediately. “I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help make up for what I did. I can't take back the words that I said, but I sure as hell will try to be better. Be the Sentinel that you need.”

“Sam, right now what I need is a friend. A Sentinel...” Gabriel shrugged, his wings rising and falling with the motion. “I've proven I can live without one. But a friend is always welcomed.”

Sam smiled tentatively. “I think I can handle that,” he said, reaching out to take Gabriel's hand. 

Gabriel returned the smile, squeezing Sam's hand gently. “So can I.”


	9. The Reconciliation

  


It was several weeks later when Gabriel made the discovery that would change his life for the better. He and Sam had been carefully navigating the ins and outs of their relationship ever since that late spring day, agreeing to start anew and work together rather than at odds to one another. The initial bond helped; while it was just a lightweight connection and nowhere near the real thing, it was useful in determining basic moods and so on where it had been extremely difficult before. 

Gabriel woke early one morning as was his habit, idly noting the sun pouring over the grass outside his window. It had been getting warmer and warmer over the past few weeks, and the weather mages were predicting a very hot summer. The entire town was dealing with the increased heat, though it was particularly bad for the animals. Many of the shopkeepers had taken to leaving out bowls of water for the dogs and cats that roamed the streets, as well as filling the horse troughs too.

Gabriel's foot hit something when he opened his bedroom door on the way to go get breakfast, making him look down in surprise. There, on the floor, was a neatly wrapped package with his name on it. Curious, Gabriel picked it up, running a hand over the brown paper and twine. The writing was in Sam's hand, something that made Gabriel even more curious. He opened the package carefully, staring in shock at what he saw once the wrapping fell away. It was a beautifully carved maple-wood box, its corners rounded and its surface smooth; its lid had shiny brass hinges that looked wonderful against the pale wood, as well as an intricate design of an oak tree carved into the top of the lid.

Gabriel opened the lid with trembling fingers, his breath catching in his chest as he drew out a painted wooden figurine of a lion with a luxurious mane. He ran his fingers reverently over it, tracing its elegant lines before ducking into his room and placing the box and figurine on his desk, where they would be visible from the door. With that done, Gabriel hurried out of his room and went in search of Sam, his heart beating double-time in his chest. 

He eventually found Sam upstairs in the library reading a book. It would have been a little more convincing if the book had been the right way up. Gabriel didn't care, however; he waited anxiously until Sam looked up before speaking.

“I should have known,” he said with a lopsided smile. “A lion? Well, at least your hair matches.”

Sam laughed, setting his book aside before getting to his feet. “Rin will be pleased to know you approve of him,” he said. 

“Rin?”

“Rincalian,” Sam clarified, coming to a halt in front of Gabriel. Gabriel nodded absently and then pulled him down into a kiss, needing an outlet for his excited energy; his wings fluttered gently as their lips made contact. To his great pleasure, Sam kissed him back without hesitation, and Gabriel could feel him smiling against his mouth.

“So I take it that's a yes?” Sam asked once the kiss was over. Gabriel rolled his eyes fondly and then smacked him on the arm.

“No, I just kissed you because I felt like it. Yes, that's a yes.”

“You can, you know.”

“I can what?” Gabriel gave him a confused look.

“Kiss me because you feel like it,” Sam clarified with a soft smile. “I don't mind at all.”

Gabriel's confusion morphed into understanding, and he matched Sam's smile with one of his own.

“Good. And the same goes for you, you know.”

Sam laughed and pulled Gabriel in for another kiss and a hug, the morning sunlight streaming over them. They sat down in a nearby overstuffed armchair, Sam pulling Gabriel down onto his lap as they simply enjoyed one another's presences.

“Do you want to meet him? Rincalian, I mean?” Sam asked after a while. “I'm sure he'd love to finally get to say hello.”

“Sure, if you don't mind meeting Alina,” Gabriel said, shrugging.

“Of course not.” Sam raised his voice slightly. “Rin?”

Rincalian stepped into view out of thin air, his golden-brown fur and dark mane burnished almost bronze by the sunlight. Alina appeared by his side a few seconds later, giving the two of them an exasperated look.

“Well, _finally_ ,” she said, taking a seat next to Rincalian. She looked over at him. “You owe me venison.”

“Wait, you two bet on us getting together?” Gabriel asked, straightening up from his relaxed position where he'd been curled against Sam.

“Naturally,” Rincalian replied, his voice a smooth bass that rumbled from deep in his chest. “I said it wouldn't be until after the Midsummer Festival. She said it would be before. The prize was the first choice of meat from a lone old stag we've been keeping an eye on out in the forest.”

Gabriel buried his face against Sam's shoulder in exasperation. “I don't even want to know what the betting pools are like in town,” he groaned, making Sam throw back his head and laugh. Gabriel weakly slapped at Sam's chest in a vague attempt to make him stop laughing, but it wasn't particularly effective. Sam caught hold of his hand and brought it up to his mouth, placing a light kiss against the palm.

“Don't worry. I'm sure there won't be _too_ much celebrating,” he said, a teasing tone to his voice. Gabriel huffed at him in annoyance, which just made Sam grin. 

“You are far too annoying for your own good,” Gabriel informed him. “Just so you know.”

“Duly noted,” Sam replied before pulling him in for another kiss. Gabriel's annoyance faded quickly after that, which had been Sam's intention all along. Not too bad for a fresh start, if he did say so himself.


	10. The Story

  


Sam looked around for Gabriel, though it was surprisingly hard to find his Guide in the crowd of people attending the Midsummer Festival. He saw quite a few people that he recognized, including a few surprises. Balthazar was there, and, after a quick stop to talk with him, Sam found out that the captain was grounded no more, having obtained a new airship several months prior, and was back in business. 

After saying farewell to Balthazar, Sam searched through the press of people, eventually finding Gabriel in the last place he'd expected to: the children's story corner that was set up on blankets under the cool shade of a broad oak tree. Gabriel was surrounded by children of all ages, with some of the smaller ones crowded up close to him and tucked in the curve of his wings. 

Sam stopped at the edge of the group, a small smile forming when he caught sight of the silver ring sitting on Gabriel's left ring finger. He idly toyed with the matching one on his own left hand, still not quite used to its light weight. They'd exchanged the rings as a symbol of their full bond not two nights ago, right at the beginning of the three-day-long festival. 

“Okay, okay, is everyone settled down?” Gabriel asked, looking around. “Margie, you have your doll still?”

A tiny blonde girl nodded, a rag doll clutched tightly against her chest.

“Good. Now, what story do you want to hear next?” Gabriel continued on. 

“Something new!” a boy near the back called out, and a chorus of agreement sprang up all around.

“Something new, huh?” Gabriel pulled a face. “I don't know if I know anything new.”

There were murmurs of disappointment from most of the children, and Gabriel let it build before he suddenly snapped his fingers. “You know,” he said, gaze flicking momentarily up to Sam before focusing back on his audience, “I think I do know something you haven't heard before. It's called _The Lion and the Tiger_. Would you like to hear it? I can even do pictures for it if you want.”

A general cheer rose up, making Gabriel grin. “Alright, but you've got to be quiet and listen real hard.” He sat up straight, shaking back the loose sleeves of his lightweight cotton shirt. His fingers started moving through the air, sketching colorful lines that soon formed the images of a tiger and a lion. Gabriel cleared his throat and began his story.

“Once upon a time, far off in a distant land, there was a lion and a tiger. The lion lived alone in a lush clearing in a jungle, but his brother and other pride-mates lived close by. One day, he came across a tiger hunting nearby. 'These are my hunting grounds!' the lion said with a fierce roar. 'Go find your own!'

The tiger's prey was scared off, but he didn't care. Instead, he merely looked curiously at the lion, head tilted in fascination, before he bowed playfully to him. 'It's a pleasure to meet you, oh noble lion. Would you like to play with me?'

Now, the lion was quite surprised by that, as he'd expected the tiger to run off at the power of his roar. Confused, the lion turned and went back home, figuring the tiger would leave once he realized that the lion had no interest in playing silly games with him. Besides, he was far too old to play games, or so he thought, and all of his former playmates had gone, as is the way of the world.”

As Gabriel wove the story, the children were enraptured by both his words and his magical illustrations. Sam was as well, a lopsided smile playing around his mouth as he realized just what story his Guide was adapting, complete with a growling voice for the lion and a happy, light voice for the tiger.

“The very next day, the lion encountered the tiger at the pride's watering hole. 'Go away, tiger!' the lion roared. 'This water belongs to me and my pride only!' The tiger took one last drink of water and then smiled at him.

'Come now, there's more than enough water for all of us,' the tiger said. 'Have you thought about what I asked, lion? Would you like to play with me? I know all sorts of games, and fun ones at that.'

The lion bared his teeth. 'No, I don't want to play with you!' he snapped. 'Go away, tiger!'

But the tiger did not go away. Instead, he was persistent. Eventually, the lion gave up warning him off and instead did his best to ignore him. The tiger counted that as a victory and found a place to sleep at night that was near the lion's den. He knew that one day they would be friends. Indeed, the tiger made friends with the lion's pride, and soon they treated him like family, but he still wanted the lion to play with him and perhaps even call him friend.

One day, three moons after the tiger came to the jungle, he was fishing in a pond for some dinner when the lion came up to him, greeting him not with a glare or a growl, but with a friendly smile. 'Tiger, I've decided that I would like to play with you,' the lion said. The tiger was overjoyed, and immediately abandoned his fishing.

'Really?' he asked, dancing from paw to paw in his excitement. The lion nodded his great shaggy head. 

'Really,' he said, 'but not here. I want to play hide-and-seek in a place I found a while ago. It'll be great fun.'

So the tiger followed the lion, humming happily to himself. However, the farther they went, the more the jungle began to get dark and scary, with vines tangling on the ground and trying to snare the tiger's paws. 'Lion, are we going the right way?' he asked. 'I don't like the looks of this place.'

'Don't worry,' the lion said without looking back, 'we're almost there. Just a little further, I promise.'

With a sigh, the tiger continued to follow the lion through twists and turns until he had no idea where they were or which way led back home. 'Here we are,' the lion said, stopping in the middle of a dark clearing. 'This is perfect.'

'Lion, I don't understand. Why did we have to go so far from home?' the tiger asked, worried. 'Where are we?'

'Just where we need to be,' the lion replied, and before the tiger could do anything, the lion turned into a giant jackal with evil yellow eyes, sharp claws, and even sharper teeth.”

There were gasps from the children, and, Sam noted, a few from the intently listening adults. Gabriel definitely knew how to weave a story, and how to keep an audience enraptured. 

“The tiger was surprised, and understandably so. 'Where is Lion?!' he asked, shocked. The jackal grinned evilly, showing off its cruel fangs.

'That lion is a long way from here and won't find you in time,' it cackled, eyes flashing a sickly gold. 'And you were such a fool to believe me, too.'

It swiped at the tiger, injuring his chest and leg before running off into the jungle once more. The tiger was hurt, alone, and afraid. He had forgotten about the jackal and how it could shift shapes. All but a few jackals are tricksters, cruel in their amusement and treatment of others. They have silver tongues and even sharper claws.

The tiger felt horrible. His desire for friendship had led him to this, but even in the face of that, all he could hope was that the lion and his pride would be alright. The tiger began searching for his way home, wandering for quite some time. His wounds refused to fully heal, paining him with each step he took. Eventually, he found his way to a river, and drank from it gratefully. He lay down in the cool mud, deciding that this was as good a place to stop as any.

When he woke from his nap, a pure white wolf was watching him with a curious look. 'Tiger, what happened to you?' she asked. 'How did you get to be in this state?'

'A jackal,' the tiger replied, just barely managing to get to his feet. 'It led me into the dark, pretending to be a friend, and then hurt me.'

The wolf nodded, her expression grim. 'That jackal has been prowling these parts for too long.'

'Don't worry,' said a snowy owl as she swooped down to land on the wolf's back, 'it won't be hunting for much longer. We can help heal your wounds, but it won't be easy.'

'I'll do anything to be rid of this pain,' the tiger said eagerly. 'What must I do?'

The owl pointed a wing towards the river. 'You must wash in the river eight times. Say a prayer to the Spring Lord the first two times, the Summer Lady the next two, the Autumn King the two after that, and a prayer to the Winter Queen for the final two. Only then will you be restored to your full health. We'll be here with food and water, but other than that, we cannot help you.'

The tiger thought it was odd but nodded anyways. After all, refusing the help of the Great Gods was never a good idea. He limped into the river, reciting a prayer to the Spring Lord as he washed. The first few bathings were hard, but with each time that he emerged from the river and stepped onto dry land, the tiger's wounds were healed that much more. It was when he had just finished saying the last few words of his second prayer to the Winter Queen that he heard the lion's voice calling to him.

The tiger eagerly finished washing and then bounded out of the river, good as new. The lion and his pride were waiting for him on the bank, the lion at the forefront. The lion tackled him to the ground, a great, rumbling purr escaping him with every breath he let out.

'Where have you been?!' the lion asked, nuzzling happily at the tiger's jaw. 'We've been looking all over for you! There was a yellow-eyed jackal that tried to attack us, but we banished it for good to the Badlands where it belongs.'

'I was wandering for so long,' the tiger replied, 'and it was all because of that jackal. It hurt me, but I'm better now.'

He gently pushed the lion off him and got up on his paws, all of which were strong and hale again, perhaps a little more than they ever had been. 'And it's all thanks to--' He broke off when he didn't see the owl and the wolf. 'Oh. They were just...'

'Who was?' the lion asked, looking around in confusion. 'There's no one here but us, Tiger.'

The tiger nodded, a small, secret smile on his face. 'So there is,' he agreed. 'It's good to see you again, Lion.'

The lion beamed. 'As it is you,' he said. 'Come on, we need to get home. And that includes you, you know. We've got a lot to catch up on.'

'We do?' Now it was the tiger's turn to be confused.

'Of course,' the lion said. 'I owe you a lot of playtime.'

The tiger's confusion only deepened. 'Playtime? But I thought you didn't want to play?'

The lion bowed his head in shame. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I haven't been a good friend. Or much of a friend at all, actually, when you've been one of the best friends I've ever had. Will you forgive me?'

The tiger licked the lion on the ear before gently tugging it with his teeth. 'Of course. Now, let's go home.'

The lion looked up, a hesitant smile on his face. The two of them rejoined their pride, the lion and the tiger walking side-by-side. Behind them, a wolf and an owl watched them go before fading into the afternoon sunlight without a sound. And, of course, they all lived happily ever after.”

There was a pause after Gabriel finished his story, and then a swell of clapping. Once it died down, Gabriel carefully extricated himself from the gaggle of young ones, saying he needed a break before he told any more stories. He joined Sam at the edge of the crowd, taking his hand without a second's thought.

“So,” Sam said nonchalantly as they made their way towards Ellen's stand, where, amongst other things, she was selling freshly squeezed lemonade with strawberries in it, “the lion and the tiger, huh?”

Gabriel shrugged, a small smile on his face. “Heavily edited, but mostly true,” he said. 

“How'd you get roped into doing story time, anyways?” Sam asked. Gabriel sighed dramatically.

“Kevin. Our schoolmaster has a devious mind. At first he just wanted me to watch the kids and make sure none of them ran off, but then he 'volunteered' me for story time while he went off to do some errand I'm relatively sure he made up on the spot. He left an hour ago and I haven't seen him since,” he told him. “I was almost out of stories when you showed up.”

“The children seemed to like you,” Sam noted as they reached Ellen's stand. Gabriel smiled fondly.

“Yeah. We'll have to keep an eye on a few of them. Some of them felt like pre-emergent Guides and Sentinels to me. I made a list when the crowd was distracted.”

Sam nodded. “Good idea.” He pulled out his moneybag and paid Jo for two large cups of lemonade, which were kept cold thanks to a chilling charm that had been put on them. Gabriel sipped at it gratefully, sighing in relief.

“Even in the shade, it was really warm over there.”

“Mmhm. Hey, Gabriel?”

Gabriel looked up at Sam. “Yeah?”

“There was one part of the story I really liked,” Sam said, taking hold of Gabriel's free hand as they walked.

“Oh? And what was that?”

Sam grinned. “The part where they lived happily ever after, of course.”


End file.
